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 Kosovo and from Taipei.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 The Smoke to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Barbara Tucker,
Mad Mike,
the Fania All-Stars,
Supertramp,
Funky Four + One,
E-Dancer,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pantytec,
Delon & Dalcan,
In Retrospect,
Sandy B,
Erykah Badu,
Harmonia,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Arcadia,
Michelle Simonal,
Symarip,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crooked Eye,
Stetsasonic,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Soft Cell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scrapy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yusef Lateef,
Pantaleimon,
Camouflage,
Man Parrish,
Nick Fraelich,
Sight & Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fear,
The Grass Roots,
The Blackbyrds,
The Moleskins,
Hardrive,
Ultra Naté,
Intrusion,
Blossom Toes,
Rekid,
the Human League,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Womack,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cameo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Smoke,
Radiohead,
Erasure,
Judy Mowatt,
The Walker Brothers,
Pylon,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.