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 Kazakhstan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the rap 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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Roxy Music,
Roy Ayers,
Iggy Pop,
Bobby Womack,
Bill Wells,
Visage,
UT,
Black Bananas,
Jeff Mills,
Frankie Knuckles,
Warren Ellis,
EPMD,
Junior Murvin,
Radio Birdman,
Sandy B,
The Cowsills,
DJ Sneak,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sight & Sound,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kerri Chandler,
Todd Rundgren,
Marcia Griffiths,
Reuben Wilson,
James White and The Blacks,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Neon Judgement,
Babytalk,
The Blues Magoos,
The Toasters,
The Skatalites,
the Bar-Kays,
Dawn Penn,
Eddi Front,
Tropical Tobacco,
Spandau Ballet,
Niagra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Carl Craig,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Funkadelic,
Amon Düül II,
Mark Hollis,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Blackbyrds,
The Seeds,
Sugar Minott,
Franke,
One Last Wish,
the Swans,
Pere Ubu,
The Remains,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.