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 Netherlands and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Mummies to the rap 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Radiopuhelimet,
Black Sheep,
Newcleus,
Gabor Szabo,
Aural Exciters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lungfish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Basic Channel,
Althea and Donna,
World's Most,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Bar-Kays,
Monks,
Accadde A,
The Velvet Underground,
Rakim,
Henry Cow,
Talk Talk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Soft Cell,
Moby Grape,
CMW,
a-ha,
Supertramp,
Rufus Thomas,
Cheater Slicks,
Adolescents,
Buzzcocks,
Donny Hathaway,
Rites of Spring,
Sugar Minott,
T.S.O.L.,
Kas Product,
Carl Craig,
Derrick May,
Livin' Joy,
Loose Ends,
Metal Thangz,
Scientists,
Kaleidoscope,
LL Cool J,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crash Course in Science,
Liliput,
Crispy Ambulance,
T. Rex,
Terrestrial Tones,
Arcadia,
The Fugs,
Junior Murvin,
One Last Wish,
Organ,
The J.B.'s,
Urselle,
The Fuzztones,
Spandau Ballet,
Minor Threat,
Wings,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.