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 Denmark and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Grass Roots to the jazz 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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moebius 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
The Music Machine,
Sister Nancy,
Swans,
Black Moon,
Cameo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Spandau Ballet,
Wings,
Carl Craig,
Excepter,
Lyres,
Joyce Sims,
The Slackers,
Wasted Youth,
Nik Kershaw,
Barrington Levy,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers,
Gabor Szabo,
Ken Boothe,
Basic Channel,
Piero Umiliani,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Selecter,
Hoover,
Jesper Dahlback,
June Days,
Donny Hathaway,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Glenn Branca,
Pussy Galore,
Zero Boys,
Youth Brigade,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ludus,
The Detroit Cobras,
Little Man,
Zapp,
the Human League,
The Doobie Brothers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lightning Bolt,
Grandmaster Flash,
Franke,
The Walker Brothers,
Banda Bassotti,
the Bar-Kays,
Don Cherry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
kango's stein massive,
Alice Coltrane,
Theoretical Girls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Gun Club,
Agent Orange,
Niagra,
Scan 7,
Amon Düül II,
Scratch Acid,
Section 25, Section 25, Section 25, Section 25.
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.