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 Latvia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Nils Olav to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Copeland. All the underground hits.
All The Associates tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donny Hathaway,
Buzzcocks,
Dave Gahan,
Metal Thangz,
the Bar-Kays,
David McCallum,
Arthur Verocai,
The Index,
Bobby Sherman,
Eddi Front,
DJ Style,
Reagan Youth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Germs,
Johnny Clarke,
Chrome,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dorothy Ashby,
Throbbing Gristle,
Steve Hackett,
The Last Poets,
The Smiths,
Make Up,
Mission of Burma,
Pierre Henry,
Suburban Knight,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Slits,
The Gories,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Matthew Halsall,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sixth Finger,
8 Eyed Spy,
Newcleus,
Shoche,
The Toasters,
Los Fastidios,
Max Romeo,
Duran Duran,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Derrick May,
The Cramps,
Wally Richardson,
A Certain Ratio,
The Angels of Light,
Kayak,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Public Enemy,
Faraquet,
Stiv Bators,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brick,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Aaron Thompson,
Patti Smith,
Rod Modell,
Aswad,
Mary Jane Girls,
Motorama,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.