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 Luxembourg and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 rhodes 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 The Fuzztones to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Certain Ratio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Symarip,
The Misunderstood,
Sam Rivers,
Al Stewart,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Pretty Things,
Warren Ellis,
Anthony Braxton,
Suicide,
The Flesh Eaters,
Con Funk Shun,
the Human League,
Niagra,
Mission of Burma,
Tears for Fears,
Lou Reed,
Anakelly,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Vogues,
a-ha,
The Smiths,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Zapp,
Wings,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Byrd,
Heaven 17,
Soulsonic Force,
The Neon Judgement,
AZ,
Barry Ungar,
Average White Band,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harry Pussy,
Nico,
Lakeside,
The American Breed,
Piero Umiliani,
Tropical Tobacco,
Davy DMX,
Youth Brigade,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aswad,
Brass Construction,
The United States of America,
Idris Muhammad,
Pantaleimon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Reagan Youth,
Bad Manners,
Pierre Henry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gap Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Patti Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Association,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nirvana,
Thompson Twins,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.