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 Egypt and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pharoah Sanders to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
Jeff Lynne,
KRS-One,
Tres Demented,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monochrome Set,
ABBA,
Peter & Gordon,
Lou Reed,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Stooges,
The Flesh Eaters,
Theoretical Girls,
Sun City Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Suburban Knight,
Harry Pussy,
Supertramp,
Eddi Front,
Drexciya,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sam Rivers,
Bobby Womack,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Martian,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Fania All-Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Model 500,
Alice Coltrane,
MDC,
the Bar-Kays,
Laurel Aitken,
The Offenders,
Don Cherry,
In Retrospect,
H. Thieme,
Crooked Eye,
Q and Not U,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Warsaw,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Babytalk,
Silicon Teens,
Hot Snakes,
Alphaville,
Bootsy Collins,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
Brass Construction,
The Remains,
Gong,
The Searchers,
Pussy Galore,
The Move,
David Axelrod,
The Slits,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.