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 Croatia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Niagra 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
James White and The Blacks,
Shoche,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bizarre Inc.,
48th St. Collective,
Ludus,
Deakin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Byron Stingily,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultravox,
Loose Ends,
the Association,
Archie Shepp,
John Coltrane,
Slick Rick,
The Skatalites,
Al Stewart,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ten City,
Fat Boys,
Iggy Pop,
The Monks,
Charles Mingus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Litter,
The Martian,
Joe Smooth,
The Buckinghams,
The Dead C,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barrington Levy,
Kenny Larkin,
Mo-Dettes,
Public Enemy,
Glenn Branca,
ABC,
John Foxx,
Absolute Body Control,
The Doobie Brothers,
Eli Mardock,
Shuggie Otis,
Cymande,
Gichy Dan,
Bobby Womack,
Jawbox,
The Human League,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lower 48,
Altered Images,
The Misunderstood,
Moby Grape,
Michelle Simonal,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.