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 Czech Republic and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 U.S. Maple to the crunk 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Metal Thangz,
Yusef Lateef,
JFA,
Nik Kershaw,
Fatback Band,
Television Personalities,
Grauzone,
Buzzcocks,
In Retrospect,
the Human League,
Janne Schatter,
Reuben Wilson,
Mars,
Liliput,
Black Bananas,
La Düsseldorf,
Mission of Burma,
Unwound,
Gregory Isaacs,
Erasure,
Gang Gang Dance,
Arab on Radar,
The Slackers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Raincoats,
Yellowson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Flash Fearless,
Inner City,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Johnny Clarke,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sex Pistols,
Amazonics,
Organ,
Y Pants,
Circle Jerks,
Sam Rivers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
David McCallum,
Funky Four + One,
Albert Ayler,
K-Klass,
The Count Five,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deadbeat,
Lyres,
The Searchers,
the Germs,
Thee Headcoats,
Wings,
Symarip,
Eric B and Rakim,
Blake Baxter,
Theoretical Girls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.