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 United Kingdom and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Blancmange to the punk 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Mo-Dettes,
Toni Rubio,
The Black Dice,
Black Bananas,
The Toasters,
Malaria!,
Fugazi,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
AZ,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mandrill,
The Misunderstood,
Kurtis Blow,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Human League,
Mark Hollis,
Sandy B,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Shadows of Knight,
Drexciya,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Slave,
Half Japanese,
Reuben Wilson,
One Last Wish,
Carl Craig,
Brick,
Arthur Verocai,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Marcia Griffiths,
Sun City Girls,
Technova,
Brothers Johnson,
Jacques Brel,
Mantronix,
Rotary Connection,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Donny Hathaway,
Spandau Ballet,
Rakim,
Zapp,
Rosa Yemen,
Nick Fraelich,
The J.B.'s,
This Heat,
Michelle Simonal,
Hashim,
Moebius,
The Doors,
Reagan Youth,
Quantec,
Pet Shop Boys,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fugs,
Andrew Hill,
The Blackbyrds,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.