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 Malaysia and from Glasgow.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Harry Pussy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Faraquet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
This Heat,
B.T. Express,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Stooges,
T. Rex,
Mo-Dettes,
Buzzcocks,
Sällskapet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Barry Ungar,
The Velvet Underground,
CMW,
The Fire Engines,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pagans,
the Normal,
H. Thieme,
Masters at Work,
Swell Maps,
Depeche Mode,
Liliput,
Oneida,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Pus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bill Near,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Thee Headcoats,
Sam Rivers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Flash Fearless,
The Zeros,
The Martian,
Donny Hathaway,
Interpol,
Nas,
Kas Product,
Khruangbin,
Basic Channel,
T.S.O.L.,
Banda Bassotti,
World's Most,
Judy Mowatt,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dual Sessions,
Marine Girls,
Ossler,
Roxy Music,
Bush Tetras,
Glenn Branca,
The Grass Roots,
Panda Bear,
Monolake,
Eric Dolphy,
Aaron Thompson,
The Angels of Light,
Sun City Girls,
John Lydon,
Cheater Slicks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.