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 London.
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 Lagos and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Vladislav Delay to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Piero Umiliani,
Intrusion,
Qualms,
Nirvana,
Ultimate Spinach,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nico,
Loose Ends,
E-Dancer,
The Smiths,
The Leaves,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wasted Youth,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Matthew Halsall,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pylon,
Au Pairs,
Surgeon,
Joy Division,
Rotary Connection,
Circle Jerks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Cybotron,
Oneida,
Minutemen,
Black Pus,
Peter & Gordon,
Boredoms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Mojo Men,
La Düsseldorf,
Niagra,
Funkadelic,
Ituana,
The Durutti Column,
T. Rex,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
F. McDonald,
James White and The Blacks,
Grey Daturas,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Maurizio,
The Fire Engines,
Vainqueur,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Moon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Accadde A,
Terry Callier,
ABBA,
Barrington Levy,
Aaron Thompson,
Interpol,
The Trojans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cheater Slicks,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.