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 Kuwait and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
the Normal,
Desert Stars,
Vainqueur,
Crispian St. Peters,
Steve Hackett,
Moss Icon,
Skarface,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Neil Young,
Kas Product,
Byron Stingily,
The Grass Roots,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lyres,
Big Daddy Kane,
Banda Bassotti,
The Barracudas,
The Leaves,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Slits,
cv313,
Chrome,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Wasted Youth,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Reagan Youth,
Deakin,
X-101,
The Walker Brothers,
Tres Demented,
The Black Dice,
OOIOO,
Avey Tare,
Kenny Larkin,
Whodini,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick Morgan,
The Saints,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wolf Eyes,
Eric Dolphy,
The Knickerbockers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Unrelated Segments,
The Tremeloes,
Tom Boy,
Thee Headcoats,
Rufus Thomas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Scott Walker,
Inner City,
Liliput,
Archie Shepp,
Slave,
Magazine,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Doors,
The Stooges,
The Victims,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.