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 Oman and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gabor Szabo 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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Beau Brummels,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Moss Icon,
the Fania All-Stars,
JFA,
The Velvet Underground,
Yaz,
Radiohead,
Maurizio,
Gang Starr,
Yusef Lateef,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Five Americans,
Harry Pussy,
The Martian,
The Dave Clark Five,
Barry Ungar,
Marvin Gaye,
The Stooges,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Slick Rick,
Jawbox,
Whodini,
Donny Hathaway,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Morten Harket,
Zapp,
Moebius,
Harmonia,
Livin' Joy,
Darondo,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Womack,
Nirvana,
Pagans,
Swans,
John Cale,
Fugazi,
Monolake,
Delta 5,
a-ha,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roxy Music,
Toni Rubio,
Bill Near,
Sound Behaviour,
The Happenings,
Blake Baxter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vladislav Delay,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Magazine,
Drexciya,
Marc Almond,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lou Reed,
The Real Kids,
Lakeside,
Procol Harum,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.