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 Costa Rica and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Fad Gadget tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Cymande,
Bill Near,
The Gun Club,
The Offenders,
The Golliwogs,
DJ Sneak,
ABC,
Radio Birdman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crispian St. Peters,
T.S.O.L.,
Metal Thangz,
X-102,
Porter Ricks,
Sällskapet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roy Ayers,
Ten City,
Radiohead,
Donald Byrd,
Funkadelic,
The Evens,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harpers Bizarre,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fad Gadget,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Royal Trux,
Panda Bear,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deadbeat,
Drexciya,
Wire,
These Immortal Souls,
Hasil Adkins,
The Angels of Light,
The Invisible,
Barry Ungar,
U.S. Maple,
James White and The Blacks,
Average White Band,
Desert Stars,
L. Decosne,
Iggy Pop,
Smog,
Zapp,
Swell Maps,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Shoche,
Alice Coltrane,
The Techniques,
Qualms,
Hardrive,
Grey Daturas,
Masters at Work,
Sound Behaviour,
The Walker Brothers,
Matthew Halsall,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.