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 Pakistan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Los Fastidios to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Crooked Eye,
Hoover,
Scientists,
The Pop Group,
Moebius,
The Dead C,
Crime,
Eddi Front,
E-Dancer,
Nik Kershaw,
Lucky Dragons,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Derrick Morgan,
Matthew Halsall,
Glenn Branca,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Quando Quango,
The Alarm Clocks,
Steve Hackett,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Association,
T. Rex,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pagans,
Bad Manners,
Jeru the Damaja,
Idris Muhammad,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bill Wells,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Birthday Party,
Monks,
Joyce Sims,
Freddie Wadling,
Aaron Thompson,
10cc,
The Dirtbombs,
Albert Ayler,
John Coltrane,
Little Man,
Hasil Adkins,
The Beau Brummels,
Jimmy McGriff,
Radio Birdman,
Brass Construction,
The Doobie Brothers,
Los Fastidios,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Joy Division,
The Motions,
Brothers Johnson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Lydon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crash Course in Science,
Gang Starr,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.