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 Uruguay and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Barry Ungar,
Sam Rivers,
The Zeros,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Knickerbockers,
June Days,
Smog,
Bill Near,
Rosa Yemen,
Outsiders,
John Holt,
Zapp,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
kango's stein massive,
ABC,
Neu!,
The Residents,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
These Immortal Souls,
Davy DMX,
Monolake,
Donald Byrd,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Faust,
Letta Mbulu,
Iggy Pop,
The Mummies,
Los Fastidios,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fear,
Barbara Tucker,
Hoover,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fugazi,
The Sonics,
Roger Hodgson,
Hot Snakes,
Suburban Knight,
B.T. Express,
OOIOO,
The Litter,
Kerri Chandler,
Television Personalities,
Niagra,
Young Marble Giants,
Nation of Ulysses,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Skatalites,
The Names,
Dave Gahan,
X-102,
Thompson Twins,
Marine Girls,
Skarface,
Kayak,
Fad Gadget,
Avey Tare,
Circle Jerks,
Rotary Connection,
Isaac Hayes,
The New Christs,
KRS-One,
Yellowson,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.