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 Cape Verde and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro 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 The Neon Judgement to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Kaleidoscope,
Silicon Teens,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lindisfarne,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
D'Angelo,
Skriet,
DNA,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mr. Review,
Public Enemy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Judy Mowatt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pantytec,
The Fall,
Slave,
Minny Pops,
Pierre Henry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang Green,
Spandau Ballet,
The Pretty Things,
Audionom,
The Fuzztones,
Eli Mardock,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare,
Mad Mike,
Excepter,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Man Parrish,
Derrick May,
Michelle Simonal,
Chris & Cosey,
Franke,
Eurythmics,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Tremeloes,
Yaz,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cecil Taylor,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Kinks,
The Durutti Column,
Moby Grape,
Lyres,
Dawn Penn,
OOIOO,
Unrelated Segments,
Ronnie Foster,
Fluxion,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soft Cell,
Lightning Bolt,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oblivians,
Youth Brigade,
Camouflage,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.