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 Bahrain and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Suburban Knight to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
The J.B.'s,
Derrick Morgan,
Frankie Knuckles,
Popol Vuh,
Todd Terry,
Kenny Larkin,
Country Teasers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bang On A Can,
Section 25,
La Düsseldorf,
The Residents,
Eden Ahbez,
Tim Buckley,
Mantronix,
Harry Pussy,
Simply Red,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Litter,
The Smiths,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Electric Prunes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Josef K,
Lungfish,
Sound Behaviour,
David Bowie,
The Fugs,
Glenn Branca,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gories,
Jimmy McGriff,
Black Bananas,
Scion,
June of 44,
Tommy Roe,
A Certain Ratio,
Kurtis Blow,
Mark Hollis,
Archie Shepp,
Blancmange,
This Heat,
Khruangbin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marcia Griffiths,
Royal Trux,
Yellowson,
Sarah Menescal,
Stereo Dub,
Angry Samoans,
The Moody Blues,
Letta Mbulu,
Kaleidoscope,
The Five Americans,
Moebius,
Lalann,
Black Moon,
The Selecter,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Urselle,
Outsiders,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.