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 Kiribati and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Electric Prunes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
The Birthday Party,
Fear,
Ten City,
Niagra,
Cybotron,
Mo-Dettes,
Masters at Work,
The Raincoats,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Selecter,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sällskapet,
Symarip,
Crash Course in Science,
Youth Brigade,
Rakim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kurtis Blow,
Faraquet,
Eric Copeland,
The Real Kids,
Gang Starr,
Frankie Knuckles,
Livin' Joy,
Drexciya,
John Lydon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mad Mike,
Hasil Adkins,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Associates,
Chris Corsano,
Patti Smith,
the Association,
Gerry Rafferty,
Y Pants,
JFA,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Evens,
Chrome,
Skarface,
Sister Nancy,
Marmalade,
Crime,
Barry Ungar,
Infiniti,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
Fela Kuti,
Surgeon,
Soul II Soul,
Vainqueur,
Sparks,
Grey Daturas,
Lightning Bolt,
Robert Görl,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fluxion,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.