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 Nigeria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sound to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Victims,
Blake Baxter,
Gang Starr,
John Lydon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Trojans,
Infiniti,
Fatback Band,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Whodini,
Minny Pops,
Colin Newman,
Outsiders,
Throbbing Gristle,
Interpol,
Oneida,
A Flock of Seagulls,
EPMD,
The Blues Magoos,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bobby Womack,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Country Teasers,
The Saints,
CMW,
Desert Stars,
Wire,
Skaos,
The Music Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Crash Course in Science,
Traffic Nightmare,
Technova,
Monks,
Ultra Naté,
Chris Corsano,
Scan 7,
Toni Rubio,
Bronski Beat,
Youth Brigade,
Amon Düül,
Moebius,
Glenn Branca,
Lebanon Hanover,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Stetsasonic,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gastr Del Sol,
Aswad,
Rapeman,
Bad Manners,
These Immortal Souls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Carl Craig,
Ultravox,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kurtis Blow,
Byron Stingily,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.