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 Thailand and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Selecter to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Monolake,
Interpol,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Matthew Bourne,
Smog,
The Zeros,
Josef K,
Faraquet,
Colin Newman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Outsiders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Zapp,
The Index,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mr. Review,
Al Stewart,
Rufus Thomas,
Nico,
Hot Snakes,
Chrome,
The Gories,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Erykah Badu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Flag,
Deadbeat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Johnny Osbourne,
Graham Central Station,
Rakim,
Gil Scott Heron,
Electric Prunes,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Busters,
Pere Ubu,
New Order,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wally Richardson,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
OOIOO,
The Evens,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Invisible,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Schoolly D,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mo-Dettes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bad Manners,
Mars,
Delta 5,
The Techniques,
The Smoke,
Barbara Tucker,
Funky Four + One,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.