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 Singapore and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba 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 Mr. Review to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Altered Images,
Ornette Coleman,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gong,
Monolake,
Lightning Bolt,
AZ,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Dave Clark Five,
Fela Kuti,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
D'Angelo,
Soulsonic Force,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deepchord,
Pussy Galore,
Bill Near,
Spoonie Gee,
Nick Fraelich,
New York Dolls,
Ronan,
The Gun Club,
Technova,
Deadbeat,
Shuggie Otis,
Gang of Four,
K-Klass,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alton Ellis,
Bootsy Collins,
Avey Tare,
Essential Logic,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Fire Engines,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scion,
The Invisible,
Cal Tjader,
Prince Buster,
Albert Ayler,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Bar-Kays,
Sonic Youth,
Ultravox,
Adolescents,
Flamin' Groovies,
Absolute Body Control,
Young Marble Giants,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kenny Larkin,
Blancmange,
Anakelly,
Sparks,
Warsaw,
The Litter,
the Germs,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Moon,
Neu!,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.