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 Mozambique and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Altered Images to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Young Marble Giants,
Fat Boys,
Kurtis Blow,
Q and Not U,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minutemen,
Smog,
Cymande,
Heaven 17,
OOIOO,
La Düsseldorf,
The Pop Group,
Rapeman,
Arthur Verocai,
Isaac Hayes,
Sugar Minott,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Sonics,
Wally Richardson,
Cameo,
The Moleskins,
Cheater Slicks,
L. Decosne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crooked Eye,
In Retrospect,
Andrew Hill,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Boredoms,
Ludus,
David McCallum,
The Standells,
Sex Pistols,
Los Fastidios,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Procol Harum,
The Red Krayola,
James White and The Blacks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Second Layer,
Rod Modell,
Duran Duran,
Maleditus Sound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Dirtbombs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Slackers,
Man Parrish,
Yaz,
Anakelly,
These Immortal Souls,
Morten Harket,
Steve Hackett,
Aaron Thompson,
Bad Manners,
Tubeway Army,
John Lydon,
Soul II Soul,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Desert Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy, 8 Eyed Spy.
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.