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 Senegal and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Larry & the Blue Notes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
The Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roxette,
Piero Umiliani,
Second Layer,
the Bar-Kays,
UT,
PIL,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kevin Saunderson,
Underground Resistance,
The Raincoats,
Fugazi,
The Black Dice,
Joensuu 1685,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Aural Exciters,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stetsasonic,
Dark Day,
Fat Boys,
Marine Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
Funkadelic,
Marc Almond,
Agitation Free,
Oneida,
Max Romeo,
Rakim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Roy Ayers,
The Saints,
Bush Tetras,
The Residents,
Kaleidoscope,
Sarah Menescal,
kango's stein massive,
The Invisible,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eurythmics,
The Searchers,
Wings,
Fad Gadget,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Donny Hathaway,
Oblivians,
Pole,
Outsiders,
The Monochrome Set,
Young Marble Giants,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arthur Verocai,
Traffic Nightmare,
Chrome,
These Immortal Souls,
Peter and Kerry,
Pulsallama,
Quando Quango,
Ultravox,
Ronnie Foster,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.