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 Liechtenstein and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Amazonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Dark Day,
Yusef Lateef,
Slave,
Darondo,
Liliput,
Japan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
David Axelrod,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Modern Lovers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joy Division,
Absolute Body Control,
Stockholm Monsters,
Boredoms,
Janne Schatter,
Graham Central Station,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sugar Minott,
Easy Going,
June of 44,
Mark Hollis,
Gang Green,
Popol Vuh,
Franke,
This Heat,
Goldenarms,
The Star Department,
Mr. Review,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rites of Spring,
Masters at Work,
MDC,
Kayak,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cal Tjader,
Peter & Gordon,
Letta Mbulu,
Nico,
EPMD,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Swans,
Joyce Sims,
Idris Muhammad,
Oneida,
Severed Heads,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Black Moon,
James White and The Blacks,
Chris & Cosey,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joey Negro,
Simply Red,
Mantronix,
Spoonie Gee,
The Evens,
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.