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 Nepal and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
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 chamberlin 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 Metal Thangz to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Durutti Column. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Guru Guru 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Slave,
Dual Sessions,
Iggy Pop,
Gil Scott Heron,
Drexciya,
Crispy Ambulance,
Idris Muhammad,
Ludus,
Con Funk Shun,
Quantec,
Ituana,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Icehouse,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Fugs,
Rites of Spring,
Monks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Moby Grape,
Rosa Yemen,
Eve St. Jones,
Section 25,
The Remains,
Ohio Players,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Music Machine,
Lindisfarne,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Grass Roots,
James White and The Blacks,
Mars,
Hoover,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marvin Gaye,
Ultra Naté,
The Martian,
Rod Modell,
Deadbeat,
The Fuzztones,
Man Eating Sloth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Golliwogs,
Vladislav Delay,
Rotary Connection,
Von Mondo,
Magazine,
Connie Case,
a-ha,
The Offenders,
The Wake,
Skarface,
Ornette Coleman,
The Invisible,
The Fall,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Maurizio,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mad Mike,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.