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 Venezuela and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Donald Fagen 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 Public Enemy to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Hoover,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tres Demented,
Marmalade,
The Monks,
Pantaleimon,
Yaz,
MDC,
Robert Wyatt,
FM Einheit,
Colin Newman,
Gong,
Stockholm Monsters,
Agitation Free,
The Vogues,
Malaria!,
Black Pus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Zero Boys,
Rufus Thomas,
Peter and Kerry,
The Happenings,
Easy Going,
The Buckinghams,
Cheater Slicks,
Cluster,
The American Breed,
Brass Construction,
Jacob Miller,
The Moody Blues,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Residents,
Amazonics,
Minor Threat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Toasters,
In Retrospect,
Radio Birdman,
Altered Images,
D'Angelo,
Wolf Eyes,
Eli Mardock,
The Mummies,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Blossom Toes,
Pussy Galore,
The Cowsills,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Idris Muhammad,
Sexual Harrassment,
Subhumans,
OOIOO,
Bill Near,
The Fortunes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lindisfarne,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.