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 Botswana and from Houston.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum 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 Clear Light to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
48th St. Collective,
Sun City Girls,
Freddie Wadling,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fat Boys,
The Sonics,
The Fall,
Thompson Twins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Faraquet,
Don Cherry,
Nirvana,
Country Teasers,
Can,
Pierre Henry,
Jeff Lynne,
Infiniti,
The United States of America,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cybotron,
Juan Atkins,
Erasure,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amazonics,
Drexciya,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Smoke,
Sugar Minott,
Brothers Johnson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sarah Menescal,
Anakelly,
Rekid,
Royal Trux,
Fatback Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
MDC,
Al Stewart,
Popol Vuh,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Doors,
The Blues Magoos,
A Certain Ratio,
Albert Ayler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Vogues,
Todd Rundgren,
The Shadows of Knight,
Arab on Radar,
Lalann,
Depeche Mode,
The Black Dice,
Susan Cadogan,
New Order,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Con Funk Shun,
Donald Byrd,
John Lydon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.