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 St Lucia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron 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 Sisters of Mercy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bill Near,
Swell Maps,
Marcia Griffiths,
kango's stein massive,
Cymande,
The Pretty Things,
Suburban Knight,
OOIOO,
Depeche Mode,
Arcadia,
Rapeman,
Roxette,
Marc Almond,
Infiniti,
Organ,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Aswad,
Jandek,
the Bar-Kays,
Talk Talk,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Alton Ellis,
Kas Product,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kerrie Biddell,
Second Layer,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nas,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Amon Düül,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
The J.B.'s,
The Buckinghams,
Bobby Womack,
Gichy Dan,
Joy Division,
The Music Machine,
Tom Boy,
Max Romeo,
Aloha Tigers,
Faust,
Essential Logic,
Suicide,
Arab on Radar,
Magazine,
Arthur Verocai,
David Bowie,
Sixth Finger,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bobby Sherman,
Brand Nubian,
Banda Bassotti,
Brothers Johnson,
The New Christs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ituana,
Ultra Naté,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.