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 Indonesia and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 güiro 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 Nils Olav to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cabaret Voltaire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Q and Not U,
Althea and Donna,
The Misunderstood,
The Vogues,
ABC,
Zero Boys,
Funky Four + One,
Mars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ten City,
Clear Light,
Organ,
Fela Kuti,
Scratch Acid,
Gabor Szabo,
Bill Wells,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Neu!,
Nils Olav,
Johnny Clarke,
Magazine,
Lebanon Hanover,
Loose Ends,
Fluxion,
Mission of Burma,
Radiopuhelimet,
Big Daddy Kane,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Germs,
Rod Modell,
Camberwell Now,
Brothers Johnson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Suicide,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sex Pistols,
Hashim,
Mo-Dettes,
Harmonia,
Morten Harket,
The Red Krayola,
Sarah Menescal,
Absolute Body Control,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Chris & Cosey,
Nick Fraelich,
KRS-One,
Kayak,
The Moleskins,
In Retrospect,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minnie Riperton,
Y Pants,
Intrusion,
Arcadia,
Dawn Penn,
Young Marble Giants,
Groovy Waters,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.