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 Solomon Islands and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ 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 Swell Maps to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joensuu 1685 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Carl Craig,
Sister Nancy,
the Bar-Kays,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Evens,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
cv313,
Thee Headcoats,
Kaleidoscope,
Yellowson,
Faust,
The Slackers,
The United States of America,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gun Club,
Mad Mike,
Aural Exciters,
Lucky Dragons,
These Immortal Souls,
Thompson Twins,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Letta Mbulu,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gang of Four,
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Simply Red,
Youth Brigade,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sparks,
Faraquet,
Mandrill,
Popol Vuh,
Soulsonic Force,
Y Pants,
Henry Cow,
U.S. Maple,
Crash Course in Science,
The Wake,
Lou Reed,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bob Dylan,
X-101,
Fatback Band,
Lindisfarne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Avey Tare,
Barbara Tucker,
Morten Harket,
The Moody Blues,
The Monochrome Set,
Jeff Mills,
Robert Görl,
Q65,
Roy Ayers,
The Five Americans,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.