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 Kyrgyzstan and from Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 June Days to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gabor Szabo,
Cecil Taylor,
The Smoke,
Soulsonic Force,
The Litter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Red Krayola,
Funkadelic,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Sound,
Reuben Wilson,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Gladiators,
Ponytail,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fire Engines,
Gang Green,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Young Marble Giants,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Last Poets,
Peter & Gordon,
Supertramp,
James White and The Blacks,
Visage,
Von Mondo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arab on Radar,
The Raincoats,
Godley & Creme,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nik Kershaw,
Minnie Riperton,
Radiohead,
Excepter,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Avey Tare,
The Moody Blues,
Rod Modell,
The Evens,
Michelle Simonal,
E-Dancer,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gastr Del Sol,
Albert Ayler,
Darondo,
The Selecter,
The Fugs,
Bill Near,
June of 44,
Little Man,
Lalann,
John Cale,
The Pretty Things,
This Heat,
Funky Four + One,
Infiniti,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rosa Yemen,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.