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 Madagascar and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Babytalk to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Half Japanese,
The Remains,
Faraquet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aural Exciters,
Drexciya,
Yellowson,
Skriet,
The Toasters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Angels of Light,
Girls At Our Best!,
K-Klass,
Terry Callier,
The Saints,
The Shadows of Knight,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fugazi,
Quando Quango,
Loose Ends,
Inner City,
Mo-Dettes,
Donald Byrd,
Glambeats Corp.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cymande,
Interpol,
Kevin Saunderson,
Deadbeat,
Archie Shepp,
Hardrive,
Babytalk,
Warren Ellis,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minnie Riperton,
Average White Band,
Intrusion,
The Fall,
The Skatalites,
Gang Green,
Tubeway Army,
John Coltrane,
Rotary Connection,
Toni Rubio,
Kenny Larkin,
B.T. Express,
Brand Nubian,
Sugar Minott,
Blossom Toes,
The Index,
Joey Negro,
Public Enemy,
Juan Atkins,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Godley & Creme,
The Associates,
Wally Richardson,
The Count Five,
ABBA,
Bob Dylan,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.