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 Norway and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Slick Rick to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Newcleus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sandy B,
The Remains,
The Monks,
Alton Ellis,
Soft Machine,
Lee Hazlewood,
Unwound,
The Star Department,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Blossom Toes,
Brick,
Rhythm & Sound,
Minnie Riperton,
Nas,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Associates,
Fluxion,
Intrusion,
Faraquet,
Smog,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cramps,
L. Decosne,
New Age Steppers,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Sherman,
B.T. Express,
Buzzcocks,
The J.B.'s,
Susan Cadogan,
Eden Ahbez,
Q65,
The Smoke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Model 500,
Pantaleimon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
Ultra Naté,
Blancmange,
Metal Thangz,
Trumans Water,
Depeche Mode,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Womack,
Half Japanese,
The Litter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Royal Trux,
FM Einheit,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Surgeon,
Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz, Heavy D & The Boyz.
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.