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 Sri Lanka and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Count Five to the funk 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
Sun Ra,
Public Image Ltd.,
Inner City,
Wings,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tears for Fears,
John Holt,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The American Breed,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wally Richardson,
Scientists,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
H. Thieme,
Iggy Pop,
Hashim,
Ronnie Foster,
Procol Harum,
Rapeman,
Sun City Girls,
Dead Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
Desert Stars,
Animal Collective,
ABC,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Robert Hood,
Absolute Body Control,
Technova,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Radio Birdman,
Fear,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Duran Duran,
Ten City,
The Neon Judgement,
Accadde A,
Clear Light,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Simply Red,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dawn Penn,
Goldenarms,
Ossler,
Quantec,
X-101,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Saints,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Davy DMX,
KRS-One,
Alton Ellis,
Nirvana,
Erykah Badu,
Yusef Lateef,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.