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 Denmark and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba 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 Section 25 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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
The Star Department,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Cowsills,
Main Source,
The United States of America,
Minnie Riperton,
Eric B and Rakim,
Donald Byrd,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Al Stewart,
Magma,
The Litter,
The Durutti Column,
Depeche Mode,
The Offenders,
Newcleus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fluxion,
Morten Harket,
Cal Tjader,
Peter & Gordon,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Byrd,
Bluetip,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Young Marble Giants,
The Monks,
The Fire Engines,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Visage,
Brass Construction,
Dead Boys,
Ronnie Foster,
Wasted Youth,
The Electric Prunes,
The Velvet Underground,
ABC,
Hot Snakes,
David Bowie,
Supertramp,
Lungfish,
Sight & Sound,
Minny Pops,
Harry Pussy,
The Count Five,
Nick Fraelich,
Banda Bassotti,
Arthur Verocai,
Pierre Henry,
Wolf Eyes,
Absolute Body Control,
Bush Tetras,
Panda Bear,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Smiths,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eric Dolphy,
Pantytec,
ABBA,
Gang Starr,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.