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 Tonga and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Houston.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Donald Byrd to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Japan,
Ice-T,
the Soft Cell,
The Names,
Unrelated Segments,
Cymande,
Cheater Slicks,
The Angels of Light,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pussy Galore,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
T. Rex,
Electric Prunes,
kango's stein massive,
Jacob Miller,
Dennis Brown,
The Fortunes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lou Christie,
Hoover,
The Five Americans,
Section 25,
Marshall Jefferson,
Robert Wyatt,
Stockholm Monsters,
Theoretical Girls,
Peter and Kerry,
Guru Guru,
The Buckinghams,
Nick Fraelich,
Severed Heads,
Siglo XX,
Gregory Isaacs,
Graham Central Station,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Janne Schatter,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Echospace,
Arab on Radar,
Quando Quango,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bush Tetras,
Outsiders,
Susan Cadogan,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Simply Red,
The Slackers,
Mary Jane Girls,
Essential Logic,
The Skatalites,
The Fire Engines,
Soul II Soul,
Junior Murvin,
Skaos,
Groovy Waters,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Letta Mbulu,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.