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 Benin and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Derrick Morgan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Archie Shepp,
Hoover,
Barry Ungar,
Harry Pussy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Organ,
Kerri Chandler,
Youth Brigade,
Q and Not U,
Eli Mardock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
R.M.O.,
Simply Red,
The Birthday Party,
Television Personalities,
A Flock of Seagulls,
These Immortal Souls,
Barrington Levy,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Alarm Clocks,
Morten Harket,
Mission of Burma,
Underground Resistance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sun City Girls,
The Moleskins,
Skarface,
John Foxx,
Metal Thangz,
Bluetip,
Minnie Riperton,
Ronnie Foster,
The Angels of Light,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric Copeland,
Faraquet,
Eric B and Rakim,
JFA,
Joyce Sims,
Boz Scaggs,
Terry Callier,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Misunderstood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cameo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Mojo Men,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
A Certain Ratio,
a-ha,
Soul Sonic Force,
the Swans,
Black Moon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.