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 Suriname and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fall to the rap 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Womack,
Cymande,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Intrusion,
Big Daddy Kane,
H. Thieme,
Cluster,
Idris Muhammad,
Grauzone,
The Raincoats,
Nas,
Colin Newman,
Desert Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crooked Eye,
Peter & Gordon,
The Monochrome Set,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Tremeloes,
Henry Cow,
The Divine Comedy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Adolescents,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Massinfluence,
Whodini,
Au Pairs,
F. McDonald,
Oblivians,
Average White Band,
Los Fastidios,
Rod Modell,
Max Romeo,
Joy Division,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Bar-Kays,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The American Breed,
U.S. Maple,
Matthew Halsall,
Althea and Donna,
Bobby Sherman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jacob Miller,
Terrestrial Tones,
Skaos,
Scan 7,
Ronan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Absolute Body Control,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Brass Construction,
Moby Grape,
Johnny Clarke,
Bill Near,
the Association,
Roxy Music,
K-Klass,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.