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 Kiribati and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Chris Corsano to the dance 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Doors,
June Days,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eddi Front,
Jerry's Kids,
Mark Hollis,
Cameo,
Wally Richardson,
Sparks,
Marine Girls,
Pantytec,
Ohio Players,
R.M.O.,
Mo-Dettes,
World's Most,
T. Rex,
Glenn Branca,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Scientists,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Normal,
Rhythm & Sound,
Chris & Cosey,
Wings,
The Grass Roots,
The Durutti Column,
The Techniques,
Scan 7,
The Slackers,
The Names,
Tommy Roe,
Sound Behaviour,
Fela Kuti,
Tres Demented,
Flash Fearless,
Radio Birdman,
Judy Mowatt,
The Shadows of Knight,
Simply Red,
Brass Construction,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Erykah Badu,
New York Dolls,
Index,
Kenny Larkin,
Reagan Youth,
Sam Rivers,
Mars,
Gang of Four,
Ituana,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Knickerbockers,
Sun City Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
Toni Rubio,
John Lydon,
Camberwell Now,
Erasure,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.