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 Malawi and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the crunk 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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Leonard Cohen,
Soft Cell,
B.T. Express,
Blossom Toes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kurtis Blow,
Avey Tare,
Pagans,
Model 500,
Girls At Our Best!,
Delta 5,
Cameo,
LL Cool J,
Monks,
The Cowsills,
Hasil Adkins,
Depeche Mode,
The Offenders,
a-ha,
Parry Music,
David Bowie,
Gong,
Subhumans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sex Pistols,
Niagra,
Radio Birdman,
the Sonics,
Main Source,
Khruangbin,
Heaven 17,
John Coltrane,
FM Einheit,
Ludus,
Bill Near,
Thee Headcoats,
Mandrill,
Talk Talk,
T.S.O.L.,
Fugazi,
Morten Harket,
Nils Olav,
Gerry Rafferty,
Matthew Bourne,
Vladislav Delay,
Albert Ayler,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
DJ Style,
Boz Scaggs,
Sun Ra,
Newcleus,
Franke,
The Beau Brummels,
Rufus Thomas,
Black Pus,
John Holt,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barbara Tucker,
Sight & Sound,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.