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 Pakistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar 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 Sixth Finger to the grime 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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sugar Minott,
Max Romeo,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Dirtbombs,
Lucky Dragons,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Young Rascals,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mr. Review,
The Index,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lindisfarne,
Negative Approach,
James Chance & The Contortions,
H. Thieme,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Kinks,
Gang Green,
Interpol,
Monolake,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Birthday Party,
Drexciya,
Terry Callier,
Don Cherry,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Slits,
Fugazi,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Associates,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Terrestrial Tones,
X-Ray Spex,
Soul II Soul,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultravox,
Jacques Brel,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Chris & Cosey,
The Saints,
Pulsallama,
Bobby Womack,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sun City Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
Stetsasonic,
Rod Modell,
JFA,
Can,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rotary Connection,
the Soft Cell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Symarip,
Quando Quango,
Crash Course in Science,
the Bar-Kays,
Dead Boys,
Mad Mike,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.