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 Ivory Coast and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
Reuben Wilson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Suicide,
Michelle Simonal,
Howard Jones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Magma,
Simply Red,
Essential Logic,
The Vogues,
Fugazi,
the Soft Cell,
Thompson Twins,
Marshall Jefferson,
Television,
Con Funk Shun,
Sam Rivers,
The Angels of Light,
The Human League,
Dead Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Rod Modell,
Eli Mardock,
The Black Dice,
Robert Wyatt,
Lee Hazlewood,
La Düsseldorf,
the Sonics,
Gichy Dan,
the Germs,
Sight & Sound,
Vainqueur,
The Velvet Underground,
Model 500,
The Detroit Cobras,
Newcleus,
Connie Case,
Tropical Tobacco,
Don Cherry,
Black Moon,
Tubeway Army,
Jerry's Kids,
Deepchord,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pussy Galore,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Evens,
The J.B.'s,
Ohio Players,
Stockholm Monsters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jesper Dahlback,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Smoke,
Boogie Down Productions,
Infiniti,
Saccharine Trust,
The Smiths,
John Foxx,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Alison Limerick,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.