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 Madagascar and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Donald Fagen 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 Sonny Sharrock to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June Days record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Howard Jones,
ABBA,
the Normal,
Yazoo,
Sparks,
Bobby Womack,
The Moody Blues,
The Count Five,
Marcia Griffiths,
The American Breed,
Eric B and Rakim,
Suburban Knight,
One Last Wish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bootsy Collins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Techniques,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rotary Connection,
The Standells,
Vainqueur,
Sarah Menescal,
Carl Craig,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Cowsills,
the Association,
The Modern Lovers,
Make Up,
Royal Trux,
Blancmange,
Alison Limerick,
Monolake,
Mr. Review,
Dead Boys,
Blossom Toes,
Rites of Spring,
Basic Channel,
Spandau Ballet,
Deakin,
Banda Bassotti,
The Kinks,
The Fortunes,
The Move,
Stetsasonic,
The Offenders,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sister Nancy,
Boredoms,
Donny Hathaway,
Moby Grape,
Aloha Tigers,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fall,
Slave,
Outsiders,
The Barracudas,
The Gap Band,
Japan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cheater Slicks,
Steve Hackett,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.