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 Somalia and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sarah Menescal to the punk 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
DJ Sneak,
Shoche,
Marine Girls,
Loose Ends,
T. Rex,
John Cale,
Warsaw,
KRS-One,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lindisfarne,
Moss Icon,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stereo Dub,
The Fuzztones,
The Detroit Cobras,
Circle Jerks,
L. Decosne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Technova,
Jimmy McGriff,
Girls At Our Best!,
Charles Mingus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brand Nubian,
Aural Exciters,
Fluxion,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oneida,
Q65,
E-Dancer,
Section 25,
Tres Demented,
The Mummies,
Motorama,
Television,
Barrington Levy,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Blackbyrds,
The Techniques,
The Offenders,
The Skatalites,
Danielle Patucci,
Sparks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Anakelly,
Ken Boothe,
The Doobie Brothers,
Simply Red,
Slick Rick,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jawbox,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Durutti Column,
Warren Ellis,
Isaac Hayes,
Roy Ayers,
Ten City,
Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson, Reuben Wilson.
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.