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 Thailand and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 linndrum 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the funk 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sällskapet,
Reuben Wilson,
Young Marble Giants,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Mad Mike,
Altered Images,
Davy DMX,
Marcia Griffiths,
Scientists,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Au Pairs,
Jandek,
Rapeman,
The Music Machine,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Peter and Kerry,
Leonard Cohen,
Franke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sexual Harrassment,
June of 44,
Guru Guru,
The Divine Comedy,
The Busters,
Banda Bassotti,
Silicon Teens,
Fat Boys,
Lyres,
Jacques Brel,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Buckinghams,
X-Ray Spex,
The Selecter,
The Blackbyrds,
Kas Product,
Avey Tare,
Ralphi Rosario,
Aloha Tigers,
Aaron Thompson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
David Axelrod,
The Gladiators,
Spandau Ballet,
Man Parrish,
Alphaville,
The Pretty Things,
Fela Kuti,
Wasted Youth,
D'Angelo,
Quando Quango,
Easy Going,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wolf Eyes,
Suburban Knight,
Johnny Clarke,
Sound Behaviour,
Warsaw,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Excepter,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.