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 Korea South and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 June of 44 to the grime 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Hot Snakes,
Von Mondo,
The Residents,
Swans,
Mad Mike,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Todd Rundgren,
The Sound,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
MDC,
The Saints,
Simply Red,
Jerry's Kids,
Funky Four + One,
The Leaves,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Terry,
Zero Boys,
Sun City Girls,
Pet Shop Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mark Hollis,
Ken Boothe,
Tres Demented,
The Slackers,
Marc Almond,
New Order,
Gerry Rafferty,
Electric Prunes,
Fluxion,
Matthew Halsall,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rakim,
Blancmange,
Donny Hathaway,
Groovy Waters,
Radiohead,
Can,
Camberwell Now,
Stockholm Monsters,
Danielle Patucci,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Charles Mingus,
Visage,
Josef K,
Tomorrow,
Man Parrish,
Derrick Morgan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bad Manners,
Scion,
The Trojans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Section 25,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Holt,
Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection, Rotary Connection.
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.