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 Bangladesh and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 linndrum 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 Wasted Youth to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Funkadelic,
Scientists,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rites of Spring,
Susan Cadogan,
MDC,
Yusef Lateef,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Soft Cell,
The Tremeloes,
The Grass Roots,
The Slits,
Ronan,
Gang Green,
Parry Music,
Henry Cow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gang Starr,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rapeman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Alison Limerick,
The Fortunes,
Shuggie Otis,
Michelle Simonal,
Duran Duran,
Siglo XX,
the Association,
Motorama,
Buzzcocks,
Pagans,
Aural Exciters,
Masters at Work,
Bootsy Collins,
Erykah Badu,
The Last Poets,
Eli Mardock,
Thee Headcoats,
Steve Hackett,
Scratch Acid,
Camberwell Now,
The Birthday Party,
Surgeon,
Ultravox,
The Cure,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gong,
Aswad,
Alice Coltrane,
Lungfish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bronski Beat,
Y Pants,
Carl Craig,
The Litter,
Silicon Teens,
The Evens,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Selecter,
Brass Construction,
Boogie Down Productions,
Blake Baxter,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.