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 Guinea and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Milan.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Boogie Down Productions to the crunk 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 Selecter. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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?
Frankie Knuckles,
Blancmange,
The Wake,
The Stooges,
Dawn Penn,
Black Sheep,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pylon,
Jerry's Kids,
Maurizio,
Lower 48,
The Busters,
Amon Düül,
Aural Exciters,
Kerri Chandler,
Judy Mowatt,
Anthony Braxton,
FM Einheit,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pole,
U.S. Maple,
Warsaw,
The Standells,
The Neon Judgement,
Brand Nubian,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
Tom Boy,
Massinfluence,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rapeman,
The Velvet Underground,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Moleskins,
The Angels of Light,
The Sonics,
The Pretty Things,
David McCallum,
The Motions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grauzone,
the Swans,
Siglo XX,
Mark Hollis,
Fluxion,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pussy Galore,
Roxy Music,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Slick Rick,
Avey Tare,
Brick,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Glenn Branca,
Oneida,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cowsills,
A Certain Ratio,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.