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 Micronesia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Frankie Knuckles to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Section 25,
Fear,
Young Marble Giants,
Index,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fela Kuti,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wally Richardson,
the Normal,
The Fortunes,
Sam Rivers,
Delon & Dalcan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Talk Talk,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Slave,
Simply Red,
The Doors,
The Blackbyrds,
Tres Demented,
Robert Wyatt,
B.T. Express,
Roxette,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Busters,
World's Most,
Harmonia,
48th St. Collective,
Magma,
The Red Krayola,
Shoche,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Organ,
Deadbeat,
Glambeats Corp.,
UT,
Youth Brigade,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eve St. Jones,
Bizarre Inc.,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tropical Tobacco,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Sherman,
Pole,
Scientists,
The Detroit Cobras,
Moss Icon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric B and Rakim,
PIL,
The Index,
Faust,
Bang On A Can,
The Fall,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pulsallama,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.