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 Lesotho and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar 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 Idris Muhammad to the grime 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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sister Nancy,
Lalann,
Q and Not U,
Swell Maps,
Accadde A,
Pussy Galore,
The Victims,
Joe Smooth,
Gang Starr,
Aswad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Agent Orange,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
June Days,
B.T. Express,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
K-Klass,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Robert Görl,
Ossler,
Yaz,
Ponytail,
FM Einheit,
Ohio Players,
Yusef Lateef,
A Certain Ratio,
The Monks,
Kenny Larkin,
Aloha Tigers,
Rosa Yemen,
Aural Exciters,
Ralphi Rosario,
Dark Day,
Byron Stingily,
The Gories,
Minor Threat,
MC5,
Make Up,
Deepchord,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Moebius,
Audionom,
Average White Band,
Fad Gadget,
The Evens,
Icehouse,
The American Breed,
Rites of Spring,
ABBA,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Connie Case,
Arab on Radar,
The Kinks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cameo,
Fatback Band,
Tom Boy,
Infiniti,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Skatalites,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.