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 Guyana and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Holger Czukay 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 Eden Ahbez to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Charles Mingus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tommy Roe,
Cheater Slicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Masters at Work,
David McCallum,
Rosa Yemen,
Arthur Verocai,
The Kinks,
The Index,
Main Source,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cecil Taylor,
the Soft Cell,
L. Decosne,
John Cale,
The Last Poets,
Joyce Sims,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eve St. Jones,
The Zeros,
Bobby Sherman,
Pulsallama,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mission of Burma,
Hoover,
Faust,
Harmonia,
Sister Nancy,
The Moleskins,
Alice Coltrane,
Minutemen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Lydon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Human League,
Loose Ends,
Minny Pops,
Rod Modell,
Gang Gang Dance,
Accadde A,
David Bowie,
Davy DMX,
Smog,
Talk Talk,
Agitation Free,
The Detroit Cobras,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gories,
Camouflage,
Jeru the Damaja,
Theoretical Girls,
Echospace,
Bluetip,
Clear Light,
Max Romeo,
Brand Nubian,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.