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 Rwanda and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Terry Callier to the electroclash 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Tres Demented,
Tubeway Army,
Sex Pistols,
Hashim,
Sällskapet,
Main Source,
Barry Ungar,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Avey Tare,
Spandau Ballet,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bob Dylan,
Dennis Brown,
Amon Düül II,
Roxette,
Cecil Taylor,
Kenny Larkin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Birthday Party,
Y Pants,
Average White Band,
The J.B.'s,
Radio Birdman,
The Fire Engines,
Robert Hood,
The Names,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pagans,
New Age Steppers,
Swell Maps,
Matthew Halsall,
Jeff Mills,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Standells,
the Bar-Kays,
Masters at Work,
Rotary Connection,
Country Teasers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Can,
The Slackers,
Bobby Byrd,
The Residents,
Stiv Bators,
Joensuu 1685,
Sixth Finger,
Camberwell Now,
Khruangbin,
The Selecter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Scientists,
Rakim,
The Neon Judgement,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Dirtbombs,
Minny Pops,
Siglo XX,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Accadde A,
Absolute Body Control,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.