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 Turkmenistan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Los Fastidios to the dance 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Crooked Eye,
Tom Boy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sonics,
Heaven 17,
The Slits,
The Barracudas,
Radiohead,
Pantaleimon,
Au Pairs,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rakim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Throbbing Gristle,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Techniques,
Bootsy Collins,
Nick Fraelich,
Monolake,
Newcleus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soul Sonic Force,
Masters at Work,
Tim Buckley,
The Moleskins,
Harry Pussy,
Josef K,
Soft Cell,
Kevin Saunderson,
Brand Nubian,
Mark Hollis,
Black Bananas,
New Age Steppers,
Tomorrow,
the Soft Cell,
Drexciya,
Model 500,
Marc Almond,
Rapeman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Massinfluence,
The Trojans,
Lucky Dragons,
Camberwell Now,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gichy Dan,
Dual Sessions,
Crash Course in Science,
Frankie Knuckles,
48th St. Collective,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
The Seeds,
The Names,
Connie Case,
The Busters,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.