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 Ukraine and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Q and Not U 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
Roy Ayers,
Desert Stars,
The Gap Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Slits,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Con Funk Shun,
The Seeds,
Scion,
Idris Muhammad,
Lakeside,
Gastr Del Sol,
Stetsasonic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jacob Miller,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yaz,
The New Christs,
David Bowie,
Can,
Patti Smith,
Matthew Halsall,
The Vogues,
The Last Poets,
Howard Jones,
Cybotron,
Traffic Nightmare,
Liliput,
One Last Wish,
James White and The Blacks,
Amon Düül II,
Cheater Slicks,
Panda Bear,
New York Dolls,
Main Source,
The Cramps,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Reuben Wilson,
John Coltrane,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Johnny Clarke,
Smog,
The Leaves,
Bluetip,
Kenny Larkin,
Morten Harket,
Altered Images,
The American Breed,
the Sonics,
Hoover,
Agent Orange,
Todd Terry,
Nas,
Soft Cell,
Country Teasers,
The Cure,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.