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 Cameroon and from New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Fuzztones to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Bill Wells,
The Leaves,
Clear Light,
Vainqueur,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Deadbeat,
Mantronix,
Radio Birdman,
The Pop Group,
John Cale,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jawbox,
Kayak,
Siglo XX,
June Days,
John Holt,
Godley & Creme,
Liliput,
Banda Bassotti,
The Martian,
Surgeon,
The Saints,
Masters at Work,
The New Christs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Depeche Mode,
Nick Fraelich,
Cal Tjader,
Howard Jones,
Fela Kuti,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Moebius,
The Angels of Light,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Move,
Minutemen,
T. Rex,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Fad Gadget,
Sight & Sound,
Rufus Thomas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Names,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stetsasonic,
Chris & Cosey,
The Gap Band,
Mars,
The Fuzztones,
Rakim,
Al Stewart,
June of 44,
Johnny Clarke,
the Sonics,
Parry Music,
Young Marble Giants,
The J.B.'s,
the Slits,
Yusef Lateef,
Ludus,
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.