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 Lesotho and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord 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 the Germs to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Mo-Dettes,
Shuggie Otis,
Sixth Finger,
Ten City,
X-102,
Technova,
Joy Division,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Country Teasers,
David Axelrod,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joe Smooth,
The Divine Comedy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Groovy Waters,
EPMD,
The Mummies,
The Slits,
Brothers Johnson,
The Walker Brothers,
Sun Ra,
Joey Negro,
Stereo Dub,
The Dead C,
Average White Band,
Bronski Beat,
Amon Düül,
KRS-One,
Isaac Hayes,
Stetsasonic,
The Pretty Things,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eurythmics,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Black Dice,
Reagan Youth,
Wire,
Sex Pistols,
Chris Corsano,
Altered Images,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Amazonics,
Boredoms,
Arcadia,
Cameo,
Scientists,
Minnie Riperton,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Deepchord,
48th St. Collective,
Lakeside,
Magma,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barry Ungar,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pylon,
Prince Buster,
Wasted Youth,
Pantaleimon,
Funkadelic,
Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms, Goldenarms.
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.