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 the UAE and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rakim,
Joensuu 1685,
Charles Mingus,
The Evens,
Albert Ayler,
Trumans Water,
Alton Ellis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Index,
Zapp,
Maurizio,
Swell Maps,
Gang Gang Dance,
Prince Buster,
The Detroit Cobras,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aural Exciters,
Letta Mbulu,
Depeche Mode,
Vladislav Delay,
The J.B.'s,
Amazonics,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lyres,
Flamin' Groovies,
Can,
Soulsonic Force,
Derrick May,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Wake,
The Litter,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Idris Muhammad,
Cecil Taylor,
Slick Rick,
Iggy Pop,
Zero Boys,
Wally Richardson,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Severed Heads,
The Move,
the Human League,
The Golliwogs,
The Gladiators,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Amon Düül II,
Roy Ayers,
Lee Hazlewood,
Juan Atkins,
Kurtis Blow,
Metal Thangz,
Avey Tare,
Deakin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Anthony Braxton,
Harry Pussy,
Ronnie Foster,
The Monochrome Set,
The Last Poets,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.