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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 linndrum 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 Star Department to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Reagan Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Dennis Brown,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Procol Harum,
Toni Rubio,
Fugazi,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ronnie Foster,
OOIOO,
Eric Dolphy,
Heaven 17,
The Seeds,
June of 44,
Q and Not U,
Crash Course in Science,
Hoover,
Danielle Patucci,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alison Limerick,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sonny Sharrock,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ultra Naté,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Association,
Schoolly D,
Vainqueur,
The Happenings,
8 Eyed Spy,
Simply Red,
Groovy Waters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Man Parrish,
Eurythmics,
The New Christs,
Wings,
Los Fastidios,
Henry Cow,
Rapeman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Black Bananas,
Davy DMX,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Royal Trux,
Organ,
Tubeway Army,
The Count Five,
Smog,
The Invisible,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Thee Headcoats,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Roxette,
Scrapy,
Kerri Chandler,
The Beau Brummels,
Nico,
Aural Exciters,
Adolescents,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.