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 Cambodia and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Sao Paulo.
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 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 Mad Mike to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Happenings. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
The Trojans,
Cameo,
Byron Stingily,
Camberwell Now,
Malaria!,
Big Daddy Kane,
Con Funk Shun,
Ituana,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wasted Youth,
The Fire Engines,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Das Ding,
Wolf Eyes,
EPMD,
This Heat,
Soft Machine,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eric Copeland,
Vladislav Delay,
David Axelrod,
PIL,
June Days,
Quadrant,
Bill Wells,
Wire,
Organ,
Nils Olav,
Marc Almond,
The Cowsills,
The Zeros,
Black Sheep,
The Index,
Crispian St. Peters,
Brothers Johnson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Danielle Patucci,
Motorama,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Babytalk,
Darondo,
Mission of Burma,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lakeside,
Main Source,
Godley & Creme,
The Offenders,
Slick Rick,
48th St. Collective,
Jeff Mills,
The Walker Brothers,
Chrome,
Delta 5,
Agent Orange,
Blake Baxter,
Piero Umiliani,
Kerri Chandler,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.