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 Saudi Arabia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 Tears for Fears to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Index,
Tim Buckley,
James White and The Blacks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Count Five,
Moby Grape,
Marmalade,
Junior Murvin,
Matthew Halsall,
Freddie Wadling,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Symarip,
Cybotron,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Althea and Donna,
Goldenarms,
Lungfish,
Gang of Four,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bill Wells,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Qualms,
The Star Department,
Make Up,
Can,
Arthur Verocai,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Cowsills,
Dark Day,
Roy Ayers,
Pole,
Ice-T,
Masters at Work,
E-Dancer,
The Mojo Men,
The Human League,
Barry Ungar,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The United States of America,
Subhumans,
Skarface,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Lydon,
Bobby Byrd,
The Leaves,
The Golliwogs,
Jeff Mills,
Lightning Bolt,
Dawn Penn,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
T.S.O.L.,
Barbara Tucker,
Robert Görl,
The Invisible,
the Bar-Kays,
Main Source,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.