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 Georgia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 London and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 theremin 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the electroclash 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Accadde A,
Outsiders,
Black Pus,
Blossom Toes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Surgeon,
Lou Christie,
Suicide,
Model 500,
Circle Jerks,
Sister Nancy,
Nico,
DJ Sneak,
Minny Pops,
Banda Bassotti,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ponytail,
Buzzcocks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dark Day,
Agent Orange,
Davy DMX,
Intrusion,
Fatback Band,
Sex Pistols,
Eric Copeland,
Con Funk Shun,
Mandrill,
Soulsonic Force,
Marmalade,
Stetsasonic,
Funkadelic,
Babytalk,
Black Bananas,
Dead Boys,
Darondo,
Alice Coltrane,
Excepter,
Alphaville,
Sam Rivers,
The Buckinghams,
Popol Vuh,
a-ha,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang of Four,
Au Pairs,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bobby Byrd,
Bob Dylan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Echospace,
The Beau Brummels,
Maurizio,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
La Düsseldorf,
The Kinks,
Barry Ungar,
Chris Corsano,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.