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 Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Shadows of Knight to the grime 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter & Gordon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Eve St. Jones,
Slave,
Harmonia,
Marine Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Christie,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fear,
Cluster,
The Young Rascals,
Unwound,
Banda Bassotti,
New Order,
Fela Kuti,
Royal Trux,
The Vogues,
Todd Terry,
Little Man,
Junior Murvin,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Depeche Mode,
Aaron Thompson,
Shuggie Otis,
Yellowson,
Blancmange,
Neil Young,
Aloha Tigers,
The Neon Judgement,
Rufus Thomas,
The Golliwogs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
T. Rex,
The Victims,
Terry Callier,
John Foxx,
Q65,
Swans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Spoonie Gee,
The Smoke,
Lightning Bolt,
Ronnie Foster,
Grauzone,
Eli Mardock,
Essential Logic,
Sister Nancy,
the Soft Cell,
Archie Shepp,
Kevin Saunderson,
Eric Copeland,
the Human League,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Man Eating Sloth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Animal Collective,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.