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 Maldives and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Michael McDonald 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 Ornette Coleman to the jazz 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
The Moleskins,
D'Angelo,
New York Dolls,
Liliput,
Marc Almond,
Suburban Knight,
Easy Going,
Japan,
Alice Coltrane,
Grandmaster Flash,
DNA,
Nico,
The Walker Brothers,
Matthew Halsall,
Nils Olav,
Toni Rubio,
The Birthday Party,
Lyres,
Bobby Byrd,
Ralphi Rosario,
Los Fastidios,
The Slackers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Heaven 17,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Glambeats Corp.,
Robert Wyatt,
Cameo,
Erasure,
Bad Manners,
Drive Like Jehu,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Theoretical Girls,
The Monks,
H. Thieme,
Bronski Beat,
Barry Ungar,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dead Boys,
The Slits,
The Shadows of Knight,
Subhumans,
Tom Boy,
The Gladiators,
Hasil Adkins,
Shoche,
Peter & Gordon,
Matthew Bourne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Yaz,
The United States of America,
Lalann,
Albert Ayler,
Das Ding,
the Slits,
Gong,
Ultravox,
Carl Craig,
Symarip,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.