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 Bahamas and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Donald Fagen 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 Bobby Womack to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Icehouse,
Nico,
Gang Starr,
Hoover,
Ultra Naté,
Young Marble Giants,
Soft Cell,
The Cramps,
Section 25,
F. McDonald,
Al Stewart,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wasted Youth,
Prince Buster,
Aaron Thompson,
Sällskapet,
Altered Images,
Sugar Minott,
Junior Murvin,
the Bar-Kays,
a-ha,
Barry Ungar,
Alison Limerick,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Zapp,
John Lydon,
Throbbing Gristle,
The American Breed,
The Saints,
The Last Poets,
Tears for Fears,
Japan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Moss Icon,
KRS-One,
Deakin,
Jeff Mills,
Youth Brigade,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Parry Music,
LL Cool J,
Shuggie Otis,
Sex Pistols,
Pantaleimon,
Boz Scaggs,
Goldenarms,
Public Image Ltd.,
Brick,
Chris Corsano,
Essential Logic,
Derrick May,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.