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 Austria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 808 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 Gong to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Sällskapet,
MC5,
Whodini,
Infiniti,
The United States of America,
F. McDonald,
The Durutti Column,
Heaven 17,
Pierre Henry,
Aloha Tigers,
Henry Cow,
Lyres,
Au Pairs,
Agent Orange,
Motorama,
Organ,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Invisible,
the Sonics,
Royal Trux,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cymande,
The Black Dice,
Fatback Band,
Quadrant,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Liliput,
Archie Shepp,
Michelle Simonal,
Matthew Bourne,
Scientists,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Red Krayola,
Harmonia,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Remains,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Sherman,
Public Enemy,
Underground Resistance,
The Blackbyrds,
Flash Fearless,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Magma,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Residents,
David Axelrod,
Frankie Knuckles,
Terrestrial Tones,
Shoche,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eden Ahbez,
K-Klass,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Reuben Wilson,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.