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 Chile and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Howard Jones to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
The Buckinghams,
R.M.O.,
The Dead C,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Absolute Body Control,
Sonic Youth,
Skaos,
Groovy Waters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Boredoms,
Newcleus,
Simply Red,
Agitation Free,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Circle Jerks,
The Happenings,
The Count Five,
F. McDonald,
The Music Machine,
Index,
The Slits,
Darondo,
Mission of Burma,
The Fortunes,
Das Ding,
Funkadelic,
Tres Demented,
James White and The Blacks,
Sixth Finger,
Donald Byrd,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cymande,
Half Japanese,
Tubeway Army,
Neu!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Erykah Badu,
The Last Poets,
Soft Machine,
Mr. Review,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marvin Gaye,
The Pretty Things,
The Toasters,
Iggy Pop,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jacques Brel,
Rotary Connection,
X-102,
Lou Reed,
Letta Mbulu,
Eve St. Jones,
Talk Talk,
The Moody Blues,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Searchers,
Mars,
The Birthday Party,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kenny Larkin,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.