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 Portugal and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donny Hathaway record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Mad Mike,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fortunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Monolake,
Jacques Brel,
Drexciya,
Slick Rick,
Eric Dolphy,
Arthur Verocai,
Charles Mingus,
Monks,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Index,
The Blackbyrds,
Ice-T,
The Pretty Things,
Joy Division,
Crooked Eye,
Donald Byrd,
Model 500,
Pussy Galore,
Gang of Four,
Surgeon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Moleskins,
Robert Wyatt,
Swans,
Dawn Penn,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pere Ubu,
Robert Hood,
The Durutti Column,
Interpol,
One Last Wish,
Piero Umiliani,
Heaven 17,
Lalann,
Lightning Bolt,
Banda Bassotti,
Dave Gahan,
The Move,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang Starr,
Black Bananas,
June of 44,
Brothers Johnson,
Prince Buster,
Q65,
Skriet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
FM Einheit,
Marine Girls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kenny Larkin,
B.T. Express,
The American Breed,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.