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 Guatemala and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 oboe 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 Charles Mingus to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Sight & Sound,
Eddi Front,
Soulsonic Force,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Zeros,
Glenn Branca,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deepchord,
Don Cherry,
Lakeside,
Clear Light,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Motions,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sexual Harrassment,
Reuben Wilson,
Minutemen,
Davy DMX,
The Sonics,
Theoretical Girls,
AZ,
Susan Cadogan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bang On A Can,
Joe Finger,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alphaville,
Toni Rubio,
Camberwell Now,
Supertramp,
Q65,
The Five Americans,
Joe Smooth,
Nico,
Black Flag,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Carl Craig,
Yazoo,
Ornette Coleman,
The Star Department,
Barry Ungar,
The Dead C,
the Swans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bill Near,
the Human League,
the Slits,
Cheater Slicks,
The Associates,
KRS-One,
Traffic Nightmare,
James White and The Blacks,
Althea and Donna,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.