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 Libya and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cymande to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
Don Cherry,
Henry Cow,
Bush Tetras,
Flipper,
Unrelated Segments,
The Associates,
Hashim,
Gong,
Mission of Burma,
Massinfluence,
Clear Light,
Joey Negro,
Jerry's Kids,
R.M.O.,
The Misunderstood,
The Motions,
Talk Talk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Motorama,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
D'Angelo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tomorrow,
The Fugs,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
John Holt,
Minny Pops,
Hardrive,
Gang of Four,
Barry Ungar,
Section 25,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The United States of America,
Suburban Knight,
X-102,
Swell Maps,
Silicon Teens,
Loose Ends,
The Leaves,
Erykah Badu,
Can,
Sex Pistols,
Malaria!,
Sparks,
The Wake,
Junior Murvin,
Gil Scott Heron,
Zero Boys,
Electric Prunes,
Fatback Band,
PIL,
Schoolly D,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wally Richardson,
World's Most,
Fat Boys,
Popol Vuh,
Banda Bassotti,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.