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 Belarus and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Nile Rodgers 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 R.M.O. to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Pulsallama,
Suicide,
Tears for Fears,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sister Nancy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Don Cherry,
Subhumans,
Gang of Four,
Eric Dolphy,
Nirvana,
Adolescents,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joyce Sims,
Roxy Music,
Goldenarms,
The Durutti Column,
Babytalk,
Motorama,
Faust,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Angry Samoans,
Pussy Galore,
Pharoah Sanders,
Symarip,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joe Finger,
Dave Gahan,
Soft Cell,
Scion,
Godley & Creme,
The United States of America,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Smog,
One Last Wish,
Blake Baxter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Duran Duran,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dead Boys,
Morten Harket,
Aaron Thompson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sun City Girls,
New Order,
Minor Threat,
The Residents,
The Barracudas,
Roger Hodgson,
Vladislav Delay,
The Offenders,
Sight & Sound,
The Fire Engines,
Lakeside,
Arab on Radar,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Underground Resistance,
Brick,
Deepchord,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Sheep,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.