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 Guinea and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Move to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
The Fuzztones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jesper Dahlback,
Public Enemy,
Moby Grape,
Neu!,
Sight & Sound,
Eric Dolphy,
Don Cherry,
Albert Ayler,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Lydon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cowsills,
Danielle Patucci,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Pretty Things,
Lightning Bolt,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Arthur Verocai,
Piero Umiliani,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Accadde A,
Severed Heads,
Sparks,
Thompson Twins,
Crooked Eye,
Sällskapet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Stooges,
Robert Hood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fear,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Groovy Waters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
EPMD,
Wally Richardson,
The J.B.'s,
Audionom,
The Sonics,
Supertramp,
Talk Talk,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
JFA,
Ultra Naté,
Boz Scaggs,
Ohio Players,
Drive Like Jehu,
Funky Four + One,
New York Dolls,
The Gap Band,
Gong,
Aswad,
John Cale,
Dead Boys,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fad Gadget,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.