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 Finland and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Shoche to the dance 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
H. Thieme,
Dead Boys,
Heaven 17,
Yaz,
Lou Reed,
Brass Construction,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fatback Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Warsaw,
Desert Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Talk Talk,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stiv Bators,
Pharoah Sanders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rites of Spring,
Sun City Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Kaleidoscope,
Roxy Music,
Mandrill,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Victims,
Soulsonic Force,
Symarip,
Buzzcocks,
A Certain Ratio,
Von Mondo,
PIL,
The Velvet Underground,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lower 48,
Funkadelic,
Rekid,
Robert Görl,
Fluxion,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
David Axelrod,
The Happenings,
James White and The Blacks,
The Young Rascals,
Supertramp,
B.T. Express,
Niagra,
Leonard Cohen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Real Kids,
The Golliwogs,
Donny Hathaway,
Scientists,
The Slackers,
Johnny Clarke,
the Bar-Kays,
Monks,
Jacob Miller,
Second Layer,
Slick Rick,
Ornette Coleman,
Aural Exciters,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.