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 Croatia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 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 Sonny Sharrock to the grime 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare,
Desert Stars,
The Motions,
Alton Ellis,
The Dead C,
Spoonie Gee,
Nick Fraelich,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
H. Thieme,
Gabor Szabo,
Arab on Radar,
Spandau Ballet,
PIL,
Deadbeat,
Bobby Sherman,
Alice Coltrane,
Chrome,
Procol Harum,
Surgeon,
X-Ray Spex,
The Trojans,
The Cowsills,
Clear Light,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Five Americans,
Moebius,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Saints,
Rapeman,
Erasure,
Dead Boys,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Slits,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cramps,
Fluxion,
The Stooges,
The Invisible,
The Remains,
Robert Wyatt,
Colin Newman,
Lightning Bolt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Accadde A,
Cluster,
Sarah Menescal,
Eurythmics,
Aural Exciters,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Standells,
The American Breed,
Slave,
Simply Red,
Camberwell Now,
Letta Mbulu,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Reuben Wilson,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.