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 Belize and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fluxion,
Brothers Johnson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Suburban Knight,
Soul II Soul,
Lindisfarne,
Whodini,
Dave Gahan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Unwound,
Sam Rivers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Max Romeo,
Urselle,
The Saints,
The Flesh Eaters,
Connie Case,
Quando Quango,
Althea and Donna,
Roger Hodgson,
Fear,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Reagan Youth,
Hardrive,
Soulsonic Force,
Thompson Twins,
The Dirtbombs,
Man Parrish,
The Remains,
Adolescents,
The Blackbyrds,
OOIOO,
Funky Four + One,
The Toasters,
Easy Going,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pantaleimon,
Boredoms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Can,
Glambeats Corp.,
Newcleus,
The Barracudas,
Gong,
The New Christs,
Chris Corsano,
Public Image Ltd.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
H. Thieme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Flag,
Bush Tetras,
Wally Richardson,
Unrelated Segments,
Sonic Youth,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Faraquet,
Goldenarms,
the Normal,
The Moleskins,
Khruangbin,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.