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 Tanzania and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ 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 Gang of Four to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Joe Smooth,
Leonard Cohen,
Ossler,
Arab on Radar,
Sixth Finger,
The Kinks,
Symarip,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crime,
Blancmange,
Theoretical Girls,
The Vogues,
The Tremeloes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Metal Thangz,
48th St. Collective,
Amon Düül II,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Icehouse,
Soft Cell,
Angry Samoans,
Tres Demented,
Fugazi,
The Real Kids,
The Modern Lovers,
Panda Bear,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Radio Birdman,
The Move,
T.S.O.L.,
The Slits,
Kayak,
Mo-Dettes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Blues Magoos,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nick Fraelich,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gong,
Jeff Mills,
DJ Style,
June of 44,
the Sonics,
Royal Trux,
Deadbeat,
Donald Byrd,
Lucky Dragons,
The Stooges,
Fat Boys,
Stiv Bators,
Talk Talk,
Jacob Miller,
The Victims,
Liliput,
Black Bananas,
DNA,
Electric Prunes,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.