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 Marshall Islands and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 chamberlin 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 Lalo Schifrin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee 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 techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
John Foxx,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mandrill,
Scan 7,
The Velvet Underground,
Fugazi,
Eric Dolphy,
Ossler,
Donald Byrd,
Drexciya,
Glenn Branca,
Moebius,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Agitation Free,
The Kinks,
The Evens,
The Modern Lovers,
Lindisfarne,
Erasure,
Lalann,
Television,
Chris Corsano,
Quantec,
Danielle Patucci,
Flamin' Groovies,
Minor Threat,
Nas,
This Heat,
Soft Cell,
Man Eating Sloth,
Supertramp,
Arthur Verocai,
Tres Demented,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Sonics,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ken Boothe,
The Count Five,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Joey Negro,
Byron Stingily,
The J.B.'s,
Crime,
The Last Poets,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nation of Ulysses,
Youth Brigade,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kurtis Blow,
Sonny Sharrock,
Alton Ellis,
The Blackbyrds,
Jandek,
Moss Icon,
Section 25,
Tears for Fears,
Adolescents,
The Tremeloes,
The Monochrome Set,
John Holt,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.