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 Mali and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Vladislav Delay to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Donald Byrd,
Y Pants,
Marvin Gaye,
The Dead C,
David Bowie,
Jacques Brel,
Monks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
E-Dancer,
The Velvet Underground,
One Last Wish,
Arab on Radar,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sugar Minott,
Stiv Bators,
The Monochrome Set,
Byron Stingily,
Warren Ellis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Misunderstood,
Letta Mbulu,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Sonics,
Freddie Wadling,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kayak,
Bootsy Collins,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tropical Tobacco,
Tim Buckley,
Kurtis Blow,
Trumans Water,
ABC,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
June of 44,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang of Four,
the Normal,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang Starr,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Subhumans,
U.S. Maple,
The Cramps,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quantec,
Todd Terry,
Whodini,
The New Christs,
The Dirtbombs,
Mo-Dettes,
Neil Young,
David McCallum,
Soul II Soul,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Christie,
La Düsseldorf,
DNA,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.