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 Iran and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Robert Palmer 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 Icehouse to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Rakim,
Cal Tjader,
Toni Rubio,
Shoche,
Mo-Dettes,
Matthew Bourne,
Joey Negro,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Black Dice,
Roy Ayers,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Zeros,
Jandek,
Franke,
Dennis Brown,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marmalade,
Von Mondo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mad Mike,
Patti Smith,
Wasted Youth,
Wally Richardson,
Agitation Free,
Pagans,
John Foxx,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neu!,
Pierre Henry,
The Dead C,
Laurel Aitken,
Altered Images,
Peter and Kerry,
Mary Jane Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
Silicon Teens,
Lou Christie,
The Motions,
Kayak,
Chris & Cosey,
Sex Pistols,
Yaz,
Sun Ra,
Y Pants,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Half Japanese,
Rufus Thomas,
Joe Finger,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hoover,
Lou Reed,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Nils Olav,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Reuben Wilson,
Lyres,
The Fortunes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Big Daddy Kane,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.