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 Solomon Islands and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Knickerbockers,
Skriet,
Alison Limerick,
The Blues Magoos,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Dave Clark Five,
Morten Harket,
Zapp,
Blossom Toes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Soul II Soul,
Siglo XX,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Swell Maps,
The Seeds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Index,
Gichy Dan,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Soft Cell,
Glenn Branca,
Babytalk,
Los Fastidios,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gastr Del Sol,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cameo,
Crime,
Moebius,
Piero Umiliani,
the Association,
Yaz,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Unwound,
The American Breed,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
a-ha,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Massinfluence,
The Happenings,
Niagra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ralphi Rosario,
Talk Talk,
Ken Boothe,
Mission of Burma,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Moon,
Carl Craig,
Make Up,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.