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 Portland.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Bobby Womack to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Audionom record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Brand Nubian,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Grass Roots,
Pagans,
Erykah Badu,
Gichy Dan,
Blossom Toes,
The Misunderstood,
Gang Starr,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zero Boys,
The Zeros,
Rosa Yemen,
Nas,
Drexciya,
Procol Harum,
Wire,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Durutti Column,
DNA,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Golliwogs,
Laurel Aitken,
Cymande,
Sandy B,
Fear,
The Kinks,
Slick Rick,
Vladislav Delay,
Livin' Joy,
The Smoke,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nirvana,
Sex Pistols,
The New Christs,
Don Cherry,
Joey Negro,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Gladiators,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Buzzcocks,
Rakim,
The Invisible,
The Happenings,
Los Fastidios,
Surgeon,
Bang On A Can,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Peter & Gordon,
the Normal,
New Age Steppers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Toasters,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Smiths,
Minor Threat,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.