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 Namibia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Gastr Del Sol to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Masters at Work,
The Residents,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scan 7,
Scratch Acid,
Harry Pussy,
Eddi Front,
Susan Cadogan,
Nico,
Isaac Hayes,
Wasted Youth,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sister Nancy,
MC5,
Arthur Verocai,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cluster,
The Gun Club,
Mantronix,
Subhumans,
The Litter,
F. McDonald,
Brick,
Negative Approach,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Matthew Bourne,
The Knickerbockers,
In Retrospect,
Rufus Thomas,
Kaleidoscope,
Black Bananas,
Index,
Grey Daturas,
The J.B.'s,
Can,
Swell Maps,
K-Klass,
Groovy Waters,
New York Dolls,
Smog,
Kayak,
Monks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The United States of America,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Kinks,
Crime,
Animal Collective,
Youth Brigade,
China Crisis,
Icehouse,
The Divine Comedy,
Camberwell Now,
Sugar Minott,
The American Breed,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Model 500,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.