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 Sudan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Ice-T,
Kool Moe Dee,
Magazine,
Das Ding,
Black Moon,
Kenny Larkin,
Pagans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Stooges,
Swans,
Talk Talk,
The Walker Brothers,
Index,
Lightning Bolt,
World's Most,
Liliput,
Scientists,
The Blues Magoos,
Carl Craig,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tubeway Army,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
David Axelrod,
Tom Boy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Depeche Mode,
The Searchers,
The Saints,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Black Flag,
Ludus,
The Dead C,
Thompson Twins,
E-Dancer,
John Coltrane,
Blake Baxter,
Suicide,
Masters at Work,
The Count Five,
The Barracudas,
X-102,
Sugar Minott,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Angels of Light,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Harry Pussy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Andrew Hill,
DNA,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Motorama,
Derrick Morgan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Star Department,
the Fania All-Stars,
Franke,
Vainqueur,
MC5,
Monolake,
Marmalade,
Deadbeat,
The Smoke,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.