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 Qatar and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the grunge 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eddi Front,
Fluxion,
Chris Corsano,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crooked Eye,
Jacob Miller,
Heaven 17,
Sällskapet,
Wolf Eyes,
Eve St. Jones,
Tres Demented,
The Modern Lovers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
One Last Wish,
Con Funk Shun,
Alice Coltrane,
Joyce Sims,
Alison Limerick,
Swell Maps,
Surgeon,
Wally Richardson,
Black Sheep,
Man Parrish,
The Golliwogs,
Young Marble Giants,
Idris Muhammad,
Bootsy Collins,
Delta 5,
Ultra Naté,
Gil Scott Heron,
Tubeway Army,
The Wake,
Monks,
K-Klass,
Severed Heads,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Organ,
Cecil Taylor,
John Holt,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Knickerbockers,
Thee Headcoats,
The Residents,
Eric B and Rakim,
48th St. Collective,
Desert Stars,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Erasure,
Neil Young,
Sparks,
Yellowson,
Godley & Creme,
Lower 48,
Smog,
The Star Department,
Hasil Adkins,
The Raincoats,
Wings,
Fatback Band,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mummies,
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.