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 Gabon and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rakim to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Pet Shop Boys,
Monks,
The Count Five,
Porter Ricks,
David McCallum,
D'Angelo,
Crime,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Stiv Bators,
OOIOO,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jacob Miller,
The Flesh Eaters,
Qualms,
Malaria!,
Popol Vuh,
Roxette,
Thee Headcoats,
A Flock of Seagulls,
La Düsseldorf,
Can,
The Searchers,
Flipper,
Aloha Tigers,
Lightning Bolt,
The Raincoats,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sugar Minott,
Blossom Toes,
In Retrospect,
The Gun Club,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Interpol,
Pylon,
The Velvet Underground,
Agent Orange,
The Alarm Clocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Gang Gang Dance,
JFA,
The Young Rascals,
The Barracudas,
Sällskapet,
Metal Thangz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Warsaw,
Derrick Morgan,
Kerri Chandler,
Ten City,
cv313,
Sun City Girls,
LL Cool J,
Angry Samoans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fela Kuti,
Chrome,
Harmonia,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.