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 Grenada and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the punk 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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mojo Men,
Marvin Gaye,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tears for Fears,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Deadbeat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rekid,
The Victims,
World's Most,
DJ Style,
John Holt,
Brick,
Davy DMX,
Visage,
Tomorrow,
The Barracudas,
Fluxion,
The Alarm Clocks,
Inner City,
the Slits,
Cameo,
Laurel Aitken,
Bronski Beat,
Patti Smith,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Aaron Thompson,
Zero Boys,
Bauhaus,
Loose Ends,
The Fuzztones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Circle Jerks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Crash Course in Science,
Dark Day,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Fania All-Stars,
Connie Case,
Dave Gahan,
Hardrive,
Rotary Connection,
Carl Craig,
Echospace,
Babytalk,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Normal,
Deakin,
The Buckinghams,
Livin' Joy,
Sarah Menescal,
Popol Vuh,
Minny Pops,
The Evens,
Qualms,
Don Cherry,
Sandy B,
Barbara Tucker,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lungfish,
Rakim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.