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 Congo and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Sun Ra to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a spring reverb 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 arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sun Ra,
Wolf Eyes,
The Fortunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scientists,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Quantec,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
ABBA,
Dead Boys,
Sugar Minott,
Peter and Kerry,
Wally Richardson,
Simply Red,
The Modern Lovers,
Bill Near,
The Litter,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Amazonics,
The Evens,
the Slits,
Scratch Acid,
Jeff Mills,
Bob Dylan,
Bad Manners,
Matthew Bourne,
Gastr Del Sol,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Porter Ricks,
Jawbox,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fugazi,
Mars,
Faraquet,
Bush Tetras,
New Order,
The Trojans,
Ice-T,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Half Japanese,
Fat Boys,
The Skatalites,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
the Bar-Kays,
Technova,
Rapeman,
Juan Atkins,
Kurtis Blow,
Bluetip,
Lebanon Hanover,
Throbbing Gristle,
Japan,
Lindisfarne,
Camberwell Now,
Popol Vuh,
Stereo Dub,
Slick Rick,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scan 7,
The Electric Prunes,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.