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 Algeria and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Echospace to the grime 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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran 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?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Idris Muhammad,
Model 500,
48th St. Collective,
The Sound,
Robert Görl,
Black Sheep,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Juan Atkins,
John Cale,
Anthony Braxton,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Starr,
Absolute Body Control,
Morten Harket,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Joensuu 1685,
Alison Limerick,
Surgeon,
Nirvana,
Drexciya,
The Music Machine,
Curtis Mayfield,
Inner City,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lakeside,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ponytail,
Clear Light,
Monks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gang Green,
Crispian St. Peters,
Alice Coltrane,
Oneida,
Malaria!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Arthur Verocai,
Black Flag,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Magazine,
Robert Hood,
The Techniques,
Big Daddy Kane,
Anakelly,
David Axelrod,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Prince Buster,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Mummies,
Infiniti,
Wings,
The Gladiators,
Sex Pistols,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Durutti Column,
The Gap Band,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.