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 Dominica and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Camouflage to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Cymande,
The Neon Judgement,
Alton Ellis,
Schoolly D,
JFA,
Derrick Morgan,
Wire,
kango's stein massive,
Bobby Sherman,
Y Pants,
Blossom Toes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lungfish,
Tom Boy,
The Durutti Column,
Faraquet,
Yusef Lateef,
Sällskapet,
AZ,
Peter & Gordon,
Surgeon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
DJ Sneak,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soft Machine,
Letta Mbulu,
The Raincoats,
John Lydon,
Rapeman,
Subhumans,
Moebius,
Scrapy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Zero Boys,
Moss Icon,
Organ,
Hoover,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Doors,
Brothers Johnson,
Reagan Youth,
Fela Kuti,
Monolake,
Davy DMX,
Flash Fearless,
Animal Collective,
Accadde A,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rod Modell,
Mad Mike,
Peter and Kerry,
Marvin Gaye,
Essential Logic,
Bizarre Inc.,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Hutcherson,
David McCallum,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.