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 Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 CMW to the funk 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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
The Five Americans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sarah Menescal,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Drive Like Jehu,
This Heat,
The Index,
Chris Corsano,
Young Marble Giants,
Massinfluence,
Slick Rick,
The Wake,
Animal Collective,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Con Funk Shun,
Rotary Connection,
Camberwell Now,
Pantaleimon,
Graham Central Station,
Gang Starr,
Little Man,
Lindisfarne,
Joe Finger,
The Count Five,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Magazine,
KRS-One,
Lou Christie,
Big Daddy Kane,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kerri Chandler,
The Star Department,
Deakin,
Marine Girls,
Audionom,
Man Parrish,
the Germs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Magma,
Goldenarms,
Bill Near,
Moebius,
Khruangbin,
Oneida,
Derrick Morgan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Dirtbombs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Deadbeat,
Eric B and Rakim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Motorama,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Matthew Halsall,
Steve Hackett,
Fatback Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.