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 Canada and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Sound Behaviour to the grime 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
48th St. Collective,
Vladislav Delay,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Mojo Men,
U.S. Maple,
Soft Cell,
Moby Grape,
Duran Duran,
Davy DMX,
The Standells,
Stetsasonic,
The J.B.'s,
June of 44,
Young Marble Giants,
Man Parrish,
Scratch Acid,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joensuu 1685,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Zero Boys,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
L. Decosne,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Tremeloes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Colin Newman,
Television Personalities,
Scott Walker,
Cheater Slicks,
Qualms,
Idris Muhammad,
The Young Rascals,
Dead Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Joy Division,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
KRS-One,
Black Sheep,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soul II Soul,
Minny Pops,
Toni Rubio,
JFA,
Niagra,
The Vogues,
Lakeside,
Jacob Miller,
Underground Resistance,
Ohio Players,
Youth Brigade,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scrapy,
Subhumans,
The Selecter,
Thee Headcoats,
Trumans Water,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pere Ubu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.