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 Turkmenistan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro 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 Newcleus to the crunk 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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Robert Wyatt,
Heaven 17,
Infiniti,
Traffic Nightmare,
Motorama,
Black Moon,
Jandek,
Essential Logic,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Association,
Talk Talk,
Fear,
Urselle,
These Immortal Souls,
Kayak,
Marc Almond,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
KRS-One,
Henry Cow,
Intrusion,
Minutemen,
EPMD,
The Martian,
Hot Snakes,
Crash Course in Science,
Eurythmics,
The Offenders,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Franke,
Donald Byrd,
Erykah Badu,
The Busters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kevin Saunderson,
OOIOO,
Tubeway Army,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Drexciya,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fela Kuti,
Magma,
Pere Ubu,
Bush Tetras,
The Tremeloes,
Charles Mingus,
Jacques Brel,
Oblivians,
Hoover,
Fugazi,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
L. Decosne,
Vainqueur,
Joe Smooth,
The Divine Comedy,
Zero Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Procol Harum,
The Slackers,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.