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 Equatorial Guinea and from London.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet 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 The Moleskins to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Altered Images,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Soft Cell,
Quantec,
The J.B.'s,
Barbara Tucker,
The Five Americans,
Masters at Work,
The Remains,
Minutemen,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Suburban Knight,
LL Cool J,
Nick Fraelich,
H. Thieme,
Nico,
The Birthday Party,
James White and The Blacks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crispian St. Peters,
Slave,
Charles Mingus,
Josef K,
Eric B and Rakim,
Swans,
Magma,
D'Angelo,
Tears for Fears,
Albert Ayler,
The Happenings,
Duran Duran,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Minor Threat,
Mo-Dettes,
Isaac Hayes,
Lungfish,
Quadrant,
Black Bananas,
World's Most,
Max Romeo,
Joe Finger,
Brothers Johnson,
Judy Mowatt,
The Selecter,
Eli Mardock,
The Standells,
Matthew Bourne,
Ornette Coleman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vainqueur,
Con Funk Shun,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mummies,
Yellowson,
Lindisfarne,
Erykah Badu,
Icehouse,
K-Klass,
Todd Terry,
Motorama,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.