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 Chad and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 X-102 to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Duran Duran,
The Fugs,
Visage,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ponytail,
The Toasters,
Rosa Yemen,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gap Band,
The Gun Club,
PIL,
Subhumans,
The Moody Blues,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gerry Rafferty,
Suicide,
Wings,
Eden Ahbez,
Sonny Sharrock,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sun Ra,
Skarface,
Joe Smooth,
China Crisis,
Nik Kershaw,
The Vogues,
Ituana,
U.S. Maple,
Marvin Gaye,
H. Thieme,
Derrick Morgan,
Kenny Larkin,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Joyce Sims,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lakeside,
Agitation Free,
Max Romeo,
Charles Mingus,
The New Christs,
Masters at Work,
Pagans,
The Fortunes,
Japan,
Radiohead,
D'Angelo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Martian,
Matthew Halsall,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Swell Maps,
Circle Jerks,
the Normal,
Brass Construction,
Ohio Players,
Lindisfarne,
The Raincoats,
Hasil Adkins,
The Index,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Skatalites,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.