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 Russia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 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 Accadde A to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Angels of Light. All the underground hits.
All Arab on Radar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Theoretical Girls,
Section 25,
Blake Baxter,
Eric Copeland,
Interpol,
Loose Ends,
Black Bananas,
Fad Gadget,
Gastr Del Sol,
Underground Resistance,
La Düsseldorf,
Nas,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Con Funk Shun,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fat Boys,
Dave Gahan,
Ultra Naté,
Minutemen,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Depeche Mode,
Radio Birdman,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Happenings,
Minny Pops,
kango's stein massive,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sound,
Ohio Players,
The Young Rascals,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sun City Girls,
Black Pus,
The Index,
Pantaleimon,
Adolescents,
F. McDonald,
8 Eyed Spy,
Livin' Joy,
Ten City,
Derrick May,
Chris Corsano,
Alice Coltrane,
The Kinks,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Crispy Ambulance,
Porter Ricks,
Arthur Verocai,
Pole,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
DJ Sneak,
The Mummies,
Mandrill,
Davy DMX,
Gichy Dan,
Suburban Knight,
Yazoo,
Stiv Bators,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.