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 Romania and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Hot Snakes,
Drexciya,
Big Daddy Kane,
KRS-One,
The Moody Blues,
The Names,
Zapp,
Grandmaster Flash,
Arab on Radar,
Qualms,
These Immortal Souls,
the Bar-Kays,
The Smoke,
Darondo,
Wolf Eyes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bluetip,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
8 Eyed Spy,
Porter Ricks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scan 7,
Fugazi,
Kerri Chandler,
Delon & Dalcan,
Dual Sessions,
Quando Quango,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fear,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
La Düsseldorf,
The Toasters,
MC5,
The Tremeloes,
Crash Course in Science,
Lalann,
T.S.O.L.,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Man Eating Sloth,
EPMD,
Supertramp,
The Happenings,
Black Sheep,
Crispian St. Peters,
Groovy Waters,
Leonard Cohen,
Adolescents,
The Beau Brummels,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Human League,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Fuzztones,
The Misunderstood,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soul Sonic Force,
Wire,
The American Breed,
H. Thieme,
Connie Case,
Michelle Simonal,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.