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 Mauritania and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Grandmaster Flash 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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Swans,
Joey Negro,
Duran Duran,
The Evens,
Nico,
Altered Images,
Kurtis Blow,
Thompson Twins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Inner City,
Nirvana,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jesper Dahlback,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Wake,
Grey Daturas,
Yazoo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Freddie Wadling,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blossom Toes,
Hardrive,
Television Personalities,
Rakim,
Roxette,
Warsaw,
Agitation Free,
Scrapy,
Black Flag,
Colin Newman,
MDC,
Yusef Lateef,
Judy Mowatt,
Buzzcocks,
The Beau Brummels,
Harry Pussy,
Barbara Tucker,
Scion,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Gories,
Robert Görl,
X-101,
Slave,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soul II Soul,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Skriet,
Deakin,
The Dirtbombs,
Neu!,
X-Ray Spex,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Man Parrish,
Silicon Teens,
Max Romeo,
Subhumans,
Donald Byrd,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.