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 Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 Chris & Cosey to the electroclash 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eurythmics,
Albert Ayler,
Mission of Burma,
Boredoms,
Rotary Connection,
Joy Division,
Kayak,
Banda Bassotti,
CMW,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Skaos,
Monolake,
Desert Stars,
The Divine Comedy,
Brothers Johnson,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fuzztones,
48th St. Collective,
The Blackbyrds,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Reuben Wilson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Animal Collective,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Holt,
The Moody Blues,
Don Cherry,
The Detroit Cobras,
Carl Craig,
Rakim,
Drexciya,
Amon Düül,
Glenn Branca,
Minnie Riperton,
The Pop Group,
Unrelated Segments,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Kurtis Blow,
Harry Pussy,
Jawbox,
Gerry Rafferty,
Soft Machine,
The Fall,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Selecter,
Tears for Fears,
Soulsonic Force,
Scrapy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Erykah Badu,
Glambeats Corp.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sexual Harrassment,
LL Cool J,
Deadbeat,
Al Stewart,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.