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 Honduras and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Severed Heads to the disco 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jesper Dahlback,
Piero Umiliani,
Talk Talk,
Ossler,
Ohio Players,
Whodini,
Soft Cell,
Crooked Eye,
Pere Ubu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Glambeats Corp.,
John Lydon,
Sun City Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Pus,
Quadrant,
Oblivians,
Blake Baxter,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Star Department,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Neu!,
JFA,
Althea and Donna,
Alton Ellis,
Gang Starr,
Lalo Schifrin,
Q and Not U,
Lou Christie,
Public Enemy,
Laurel Aitken,
Brothers Johnson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Swell Maps,
Thee Headcoats,
the Human League,
John Foxx,
The Selecter,
Bobby Womack,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Yusef Lateef,
Massinfluence,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arab on Radar,
Nas,
Alison Limerick,
A Certain Ratio,
Fat Boys,
Mark Hollis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fela Kuti,
Aswad,
The Tremeloes,
X-Ray Spex,
Carl Craig,
Ralphi Rosario,
Anthony Braxton,
Chris Corsano,
Wings,
New York Dolls,
Pussy Galore,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.