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 Kenya 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 linndrum 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 Curtis Mayfield to the jazz 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
The Music Machine,
a-ha,
Erykah Badu,
Pylon,
Maleditus Sound,
The Busters,
the Normal,
The Blues Magoos,
Bang On A Can,
R.M.O.,
Marc Almond,
The Fuzztones,
EPMD,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Vogues,
The Fall,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pagans,
F. McDonald,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pierre Henry,
Josef K,
These Immortal Souls,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Womack,
Bill Wells,
Jeff Lynne,
Blancmange,
The Gories,
Stockholm Monsters,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Misunderstood,
Sam Rivers,
Radio Birdman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Human League,
Tres Demented,
June Days,
Hoover,
David Axelrod,
Piero Umiliani,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Barracudas,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Divine Comedy,
The Skatalites,
Theoretical Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dave Gahan,
Blake Baxter,
One Last Wish,
Joe Finger,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.