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 Iraq and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Depeche Mode to the punk 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Magma,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minny Pops,
Sandy B,
Goldenarms,
Cal Tjader,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Gories,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Franke,
Marshall Jefferson,
Henry Cow,
Patti Smith,
The Walker Brothers,
Drexciya,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Kinks,
DJ Style,
The Victims,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nils Olav,
Carl Craig,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Index,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Second Layer,
Ultra Naté,
The Real Kids,
Idris Muhammad,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Metal Thangz,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skarface,
Sex Pistols,
Essential Logic,
Amazonics,
Jerry's Kids,
Moebius,
Warsaw,
Soft Machine,
Pagans,
Tim Buckley,
Brick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Sherman,
Blossom Toes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Albert Ayler,
Q and Not U,
Nico,
Amon Düül,
The Fortunes,
Arab on Radar,
Stiv Bators,
Rakim,
Soul II Soul,
Neu!,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
Faraquet,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.