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 Netherlands and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Matthew Bourne to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Piero Umiliani. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Wasted Youth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Panda Bear,
10cc,
Theoretical Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Little Man,
Magazine,
Eden Ahbez,
The Buckinghams,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Camberwell Now,
the Normal,
John Coltrane,
Khruangbin,
The Pop Group,
Shuggie Otis,
Marc Almond,
Minutemen,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare,
The Fall,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Harry Pussy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
a-ha,
Public Enemy,
Letta Mbulu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang Starr,
Easy Going,
Tom Boy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Visage,
Joe Finger,
Agent Orange,
The Mojo Men,
Joy Division,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Groovy Waters,
Jeff Lynne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Suicide,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pole,
Henry Cow,
Arthur Verocai,
FM Einheit,
Black Flag,
PIL,
The Angels of Light,
Make Up,
Sam Rivers,
Reagan Youth,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.