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 San Marino and from Madrid.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 The New Christs to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Alison Limerick,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cramps,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Smoke,
John Foxx,
Johnny Clarke,
Vainqueur,
Talk Talk,
Flash Fearless,
Second Layer,
Supertramp,
Lucky Dragons,
Gastr Del Sol,
Underground Resistance,
Aural Exciters,
Eric Dolphy,
Sun City Girls,
Bush Tetras,
Essential Logic,
Avey Tare,
Monolake,
Sixth Finger,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pet Shop Boys,
Motorama,
Boz Scaggs,
The Associates,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Byrd,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sound Behaviour,
Country Teasers,
Average White Band,
The Barracudas,
Khruangbin,
The Young Rascals,
Archie Shepp,
Severed Heads,
UT,
Suburban Knight,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lalann,
Blake Baxter,
Erykah Badu,
Rufus Thomas,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Desert Stars,
Cluster,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stockholm Monsters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bootsy Collins,
Smog,
The Black Dice,
Soft Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.