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 Burkina and from Lagos.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
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 oboe 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 Kenny Larkin to the electroclash 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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Kenny Larkin,
Barry Ungar,
Todd Terry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Standells,
Juan Atkins,
Tom Boy,
Niagra,
Pole,
Masters at Work,
Donald Byrd,
Alice Coltrane,
Todd Rundgren,
Alison Limerick,
Boredoms,
John Lydon,
Sound Behaviour,
Fela Kuti,
Prince Buster,
Bush Tetras,
Trumans Water,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cybotron,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lower 48,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Silicon Teens,
Sex Pistols,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Cowsills,
Severed Heads,
Cal Tjader,
Skriet,
H. Thieme,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Model 500,
Sandy B,
Mandrill,
Neu!,
D'Angelo,
Pere Ubu,
Drexciya,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tears for Fears,
Monks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Henry Cow,
Eric Copeland,
The Zeros,
The Stooges,
Crispy Ambulance,
Erykah Badu,
Zapp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arthur Verocai,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Five Americans,
The Durutti Column,
Kas Product,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.