Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Lithuania and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing H. Thieme to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Nas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Tears for Fears,
Harmonia,
PIL,
DJ Sneak,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cowsills,
Mantronix,
Juan Atkins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kas Product,
Gang of Four,
Lebanon Hanover,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Minor Threat,
Second Layer,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Slackers,
World's Most,
Eric Copeland,
Royal Trux,
Roy Ayers,
Susan Cadogan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Birthday Party,
Drive Like Jehu,
La Düsseldorf,
Faust,
Pussy Galore,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Flag,
Sonic Youth,
ABBA,
Crime,
Das Ding,
Surgeon,
Cymande,
Visage,
Liliput,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gories,
Max Romeo,
Sun Ra,
Circle Jerks,
Inner City,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joe Smooth,
Robert Wyatt,
Sugar Minott,
The Five Americans,
The Blues Magoos,
Panda Bear,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sällskapet,
Livin' Joy,
Lindisfarne,
Sound Behaviour,
Bronski Beat,
Sandy B,
Mary Jane Girls,
Average White Band,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.