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 Micronesia and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kerri Chandler to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Pole,
The Happenings,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Vainqueur,
Royal Trux,
Ken Boothe,
Procol Harum,
The Durutti Column,
Desert Stars,
Audionom,
Tom Boy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bush Tetras,
The United States of America,
Blake Baxter,
Al Stewart,
Kaleidoscope,
The Stooges,
Heaven 17,
Brass Construction,
Buzzcocks,
Los Fastidios,
Flamin' Groovies,
James White and The Blacks,
Drexciya,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aural Exciters,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Electric Prunes,
Steve Hackett,
Model 500,
Average White Band,
Magazine,
Black Bananas,
Robert Görl,
Minnie Riperton,
Ultravox,
The Knickerbockers,
Parry Music,
Arab on Radar,
Sexual Harrassment,
Morten Harket,
Slave,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Siglo XX,
The Selecter,
Kerrie Biddell,
Simply Red,
Zapp,
Thompson Twins,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Q65,
Moby Grape,
kango's stein massive,
David McCallum,
The Mummies,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Grey Daturas,
The Motions,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.