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 Libya and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Barrington Levy to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Alison Limerick,
Sällskapet,
Robert Görl,
FM Einheit,
The Cramps,
DJ Style,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Warsaw,
the Slits,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pantaleimon,
Ossler,
Donny Hathaway,
Monks,
The Monochrome Set,
Magma,
The Red Krayola,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Nils Olav,
Kurtis Blow,
The Happenings,
Dark Day,
Dawn Penn,
Wolf Eyes,
Niagra,
Arab on Radar,
Unwound,
Sugar Minott,
Faust,
Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants,
New York Dolls,
Mission of Burma,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Moleskins,
Procol Harum,
Black Bananas,
Joe Smooth,
PIL,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gap Band,
Bad Manners,
Anthony Braxton,
Spoonie Gee,
John Coltrane,
Excepter,
Godley & Creme,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Monolake,
Porter Ricks,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brass Construction,
The Vogues,
Flipper,
Eddi Front,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.