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 Barbados and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the grunge 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen 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?
The Alarm Clocks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mandrill,
Motorama,
Throbbing Gristle,
Liliput,
John Holt,
The Litter,
Excepter,
Althea and Donna,
Bronski Beat,
Wally Richardson,
Skarface,
Freddie Wadling,
Crime,
UT,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Angels of Light,
Barry Ungar,
Juan Atkins,
DJ Style,
Newcleus,
Metal Thangz,
Eric B and Rakim,
Banda Bassotti,
The United States of America,
Main Source,
The Skatalites,
The Buckinghams,
The Moody Blues,
Derrick May,
Groovy Waters,
The Index,
Scientists,
The Leaves,
T. Rex,
Lower 48,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Sheep,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Interpol,
Brothers Johnson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Stockholm Monsters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Barbara Tucker,
Stereo Dub,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cymande,
Absolute Body Control,
Au Pairs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hoover,
Average White Band,
Arthur Verocai,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eurythmics,
Kenny Larkin,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.