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 Ivory Coast and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Lou Reed 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 Man Eating Sloth to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Das Ding. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Byron Stingily,
Sarah Menescal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Radio Birdman,
Scientists,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gong,
48th St. Collective,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Country Teasers,
Bill Wells,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pulsallama,
the Human League,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Sheep,
the Slits,
Second Layer,
Tropical Tobacco,
Faraquet,
Royal Trux,
Nas,
Nick Fraelich,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tomorrow,
the Soft Cell,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultravox,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Donald Byrd,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Harry Pussy,
Sam Rivers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nils Olav,
Goldenarms,
Excepter,
Charles Mingus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Blake Baxter,
The Saints,
Spoonie Gee,
Hot Snakes,
Alton Ellis,
Jimmy McGriff,
In Retrospect,
Black Pus,
Crooked Eye,
Sound Behaviour,
Scrapy,
Bobby Womack,
Section 25,
Warsaw,
The Victims,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Andrew Hill,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Remains,
Todd Terry,
Absolute Body Control,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.