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 Cape Verde and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Absolute Body Control to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Accadde A,
The Walker Brothers,
Soulsonic Force,
Joyce Sims,
Flash Fearless,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Easy Going,
The Real Kids,
Sparks,
Toni Rubio,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Soft Cell,
Archie Shepp,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Franke,
Qualms,
Pole,
Matthew Halsall,
Mantronix,
Ludus,
Harry Pussy,
Charles Mingus,
Lou Christie,
X-101,
D'Angelo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aaron Thompson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Monks,
Erykah Badu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Neon Judgement,
Fugazi,
Delta 5,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Saints,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
David Bowie,
The American Breed,
the Association,
Mr. Review,
Metal Thangz,
Grandmaster Flash,
Shoche,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cameo,
Cal Tjader,
ABBA,
Scan 7,
Ultra Naté,
Pulsallama,
FM Einheit,
The Durutti Column,
Sandy B,
The Techniques,
T.S.O.L.,
the Normal,
8 Eyed Spy,
Andrew Hill,
Ronan,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.