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 St Lucia and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord 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 E-Dancer to the jazz 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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
MC5,
Soul II Soul,
Panda Bear,
Boredoms,
Eve St. Jones,
Todd Terry,
Marvin Gaye,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minny Pops,
Dawn Penn,
Curtis Mayfield,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tom Boy,
The Gladiators,
Crime,
The Fall,
John Coltrane,
Nils Olav,
The Monks,
James White and The Blacks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Black Bananas,
The American Breed,
Electric Prunes,
Niagra,
Danielle Patucci,
John Holt,
OOIOO,
the Sonics,
Johnny Clarke,
Franke,
Organ,
Patti Smith,
The Smoke,
Mr. Review,
Eric Dolphy,
Adolescents,
Pulsallama,
Pussy Galore,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sex Pistols,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Pus,
Yazoo,
Bootsy Collins,
Stockholm Monsters,
Quantec,
Mad Mike,
Skarface,
Jandek,
Clear Light,
Piero Umiliani,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Interpol,
a-ha,
Reagan Youth,
Funkadelic,
Dark Day,
Barry Ungar,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.