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 Cuba and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Selecter to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Quantec,
The Gap Band,
The Tremeloes,
The Gories,
Fluxion,
The Red Krayola,
MDC,
Barry Ungar,
Tim Buckley,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ken Boothe,
June Days,
Guru Guru,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Camouflage,
Kerrie Biddell,
Y Pants,
Isaac Hayes,
Cecil Taylor,
The Music Machine,
CMW,
the Soft Cell,
Sandy B,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mars,
F. McDonald,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Magma,
Qualms,
Tomorrow,
Duran Duran,
Graham Central Station,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Pretty Things,
Chris Corsano,
Quando Quango,
Eli Mardock,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sonny Sharrock,
T.S.O.L.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kevin Saunderson,
Circle Jerks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Andrew Hill,
Marvin Gaye,
Swans,
Gang Green,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lakeside,
Darondo,
Audionom,
Prince Buster,
Davy DMX,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra, Electric Light Orchestra.
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.