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 Ghana and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare 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 Motorama to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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 Residents,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
T.S.O.L.,
La Düsseldorf,
Bob Dylan,
Don Cherry,
The Neon Judgement,
Nas,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Stiv Bators,
The Divine Comedy,
Letta Mbulu,
Jacob Miller,
Ituana,
Sun Ra,
The Skatalites,
Lindisfarne,
Crime,
the Normal,
Deepchord,
Vainqueur,
Gang Green,
The Music Machine,
Simply Red,
Crispy Ambulance,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Suicide,
Man Parrish,
Blossom Toes,
The Sound,
Rekid,
Shuggie Otis,
The Motions,
Blancmange,
Crash Course in Science,
Infiniti,
Rakim,
Chris & Cosey,
Motorama,
Whodini,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cluster,
Deadbeat,
Depeche Mode,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rufus Thomas,
Warren Ellis,
The Litter,
Brand Nubian,
Jeff Mills,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Raincoats,
Eric Dolphy,
Darondo,
Maurizio,
Stockholm Monsters,
D'Angelo,
Kas Product,
Aaron Thompson,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.