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 Egypt and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Nile Rodgers 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 The Remains to the grime 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
In Retrospect,
Motorama,
Minny Pops,
Ohio Players,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Real Kids,
La Düsseldorf,
The Cramps,
The Gun Club,
Faraquet,
Thompson Twins,
L. Decosne,
The Star Department,
Lungfish,
Erasure,
AZ,
Sixth Finger,
Joe Finger,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gregory Isaacs,
Howard Jones,
Robert Görl,
KRS-One,
The Gap Band,
Albert Ayler,
Amazonics,
The Evens,
Hot Snakes,
The Smiths,
The Cure,
Arcadia,
Junior Murvin,
Youth Brigade,
Derrick Morgan,
Susan Cadogan,
The Offenders,
Royal Trux,
Bluetip,
Bobby Sherman,
Model 500,
Scion,
Desert Stars,
Jeff Mills,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ultravox,
Deepchord,
Colin Newman,
Sight & Sound,
The Saints,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harry Pussy,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Livin' Joy,
Television,
Outsiders,
Lou Christie,
Cluster,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Nirvana,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.