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 Paraguay and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba 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 Carl Craig to the crunk 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Anakelly,
Spandau Ballet,
F. McDonald,
Second Layer,
Minny Pops,
The Fall,
Skriet,
Man Eating Sloth,
China Crisis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Severed Heads,
The Dirtbombs,
Depeche Mode,
Slave,
Mad Mike,
Urselle,
The Cramps,
The Durutti Column,
Johnny Clarke,
Bad Manners,
Motorama,
The Velvet Underground,
Charles Mingus,
Yellowson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sonic Youth,
Todd Terry,
Excepter,
Dual Sessions,
Nas,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barry Ungar,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Womack,
Underground Resistance,
Radio Birdman,
Popol Vuh,
Jeru the Damaja,
Henry Cow,
Babytalk,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dorothy Ashby,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Maleditus Sound,
June Days,
Vladislav Delay,
The Last Poets,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Delta 5,
Rapeman,
Stereo Dub,
Masters at Work,
Model 500,
Grauzone,
This Heat,
Danielle Patucci,
Faust,
Crash Course in Science,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.