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 East Timor and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Quando Quango to the dance 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer 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 güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Inner City,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Mills,
The Neon Judgement,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sexual Harrassment,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hot Snakes,
Deakin,
The Evens,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Negative Approach,
the Human League,
The Moody Blues,
The Alarm Clocks,
U.S. Maple,
Don Cherry,
Hasil Adkins,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Seeds,
The Sound,
The Birthday Party,
Make Up,
David McCallum,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Martian,
Pussy Galore,
Faraquet,
Magazine,
John Foxx,
Josef K,
Fad Gadget,
Siglo XX,
Funkadelic,
The Pretty Things,
a-ha,
the Germs,
Johnny Clarke,
K-Klass,
10cc,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Moleskins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Interpol,
Nik Kershaw,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Buckinghams,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Average White Band,
Cluster,
Aaron Thompson,
Model 500,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mark Hollis,
Eddi Front,
Ituana,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pagans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lyres,
Sight & Sound,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.