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 Macedonia and from Paris.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 arpeggiator 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 Arab on Radar to the disco 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Wake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Barbara Tucker,
Khruangbin,
The Five Americans,
MC5,
Ponytail,
Chris Corsano,
Suburban Knight,
Swans,
R.M.O.,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sugar Minott,
48th St. Collective,
Chris & Cosey,
Max Romeo,
Boz Scaggs,
Barrington Levy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Star Department,
Q and Not U,
Fat Boys,
These Immortal Souls,
John Lydon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Velvet Underground,
the Normal,
Rufus Thomas,
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang of Four,
Technova,
Blancmange,
Average White Band,
Joey Negro,
Cheater Slicks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Stiv Bators,
Kurtis Blow,
Cameo,
Kenny Larkin,
Robert Görl,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Oneida,
Harmonia,
Monolake,
Accadde A,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sandy B,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Monochrome Set,
Lucky Dragons,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cowsills,
Easy Going,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Unwound,
Model 500,
Ohio Players,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.