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 Nigeria and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the funk 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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Little Man,
Simply Red,
Khruangbin,
Accadde A,
Panda Bear,
Magma,
kango's stein massive,
AZ,
Alice Coltrane,
Moby Grape,
The Gun Club,
the Fania All-Stars,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fear,
The Beau Brummels,
cv313,
FM Einheit,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mojo Men,
LL Cool J,
X-101,
Surgeon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bill Near,
Yaz,
Freddie Wadling,
The Vogues,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Monks,
Sister Nancy,
MDC,
China Crisis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Section 25,
Monks,
June of 44,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vainqueur,
Terry Callier,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dark Day,
Erykah Badu,
Matthew Bourne,
Lower 48,
The United States of America,
The Young Rascals,
Groovy Waters,
The Happenings,
Reuben Wilson,
One Last Wish,
Erasure,
Gang Green,
Bill Wells,
Chrome,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cluster,
Eve St. Jones,
Camouflage,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Doors,
Nico,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.