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 Czech Republic and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb 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 Shuggie Otis to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
The Saints,
Motorama,
James White and The Blacks,
Banda Bassotti,
Deadbeat,
Stereo Dub,
Jeff Mills,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Guru Guru,
Yaz,
The New Christs,
The Gories,
Peter & Gordon,
Amon Düül,
Lindisfarne,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Moody Blues,
Mars,
Blossom Toes,
The Velvet Underground,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lightning Bolt,
The Skatalites,
Sugar Minott,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Trojans,
Toni Rubio,
Fatback Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
La Düsseldorf,
Underground Resistance,
Adolescents,
Joy Division,
Matthew Bourne,
Skriet,
Jawbox,
Royal Trux,
David McCallum,
Ken Boothe,
Easy Going,
June Days,
Tubeway Army,
Schoolly D,
The Litter,
Pharoah Sanders,
D'Angelo,
Livin' Joy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Essential Logic,
Susan Cadogan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
10cc,
Television,
The Gun Club,
John Coltrane,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gong,
The Five Americans,
Bill Near,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.