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 Jamaica and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar 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 Public Enemy to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gabor Szabo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Wings,
Ronan,
Bobby Womack,
Half Japanese,
World's Most,
Mr. Review,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
D'Angelo,
Suicide,
Bush Tetras,
Laurel Aitken,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Matthew Bourne,
Surgeon,
The Misunderstood,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fela Kuti,
The Black Dice,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Searchers,
Arab on Radar,
Nico,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Unrelated Segments,
The Last Poets,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Neu!,
Procol Harum,
The Buckinghams,
Hashim,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Junior Murvin,
Dawn Penn,
Lyres,
The Litter,
The Smiths,
La Düsseldorf,
Ponytail,
Dead Boys,
Robert Hood,
Public Enemy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobby Byrd,
Alison Limerick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Zapp,
KRS-One,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Dennis Brown,
Rufus Thomas,
Qualms,
The Slits,
F. McDonald,
Panda Bear,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ultimate Spinach,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.