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 Egypt and from Seoul.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Gang Gang Dance to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Moebius,
Rapeman,
The Monochrome Set,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Moon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Organ,
The Dead C,
Minnie Riperton,
Minutemen,
L. Decosne,
KRS-One,
Althea and Donna,
Skriet,
Peter and Kerry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Neil Young,
The Slackers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Andrew Hill,
The Count Five,
The Angels of Light,
Harmonia,
Stiv Bators,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mantronix,
Television Personalities,
A Certain Ratio,
The Invisible,
Kas Product,
Yusef Lateef,
Unwound,
Brass Construction,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
48th St. Collective,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minor Threat,
Aural Exciters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eyeless In Gaza,
In Retrospect,
B.T. Express,
Barry Ungar,
Duran Duran,
The Cure,
The Real Kids,
Lindisfarne,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mad Mike,
Mark Hollis,
Buzzcocks,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Wyatt,
Cheater Slicks,
The Last Poets,
Nils Olav,
Deadbeat,
Charles Mingus,
Moby Grape,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.