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 Venezuela and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Letta Mbulu to the punk 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Visage,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mojo Men,
Traffic Nightmare,
Aswad,
Blancmange,
The Techniques,
The Dirtbombs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Isaac Hayes,
Connie Case,
The Vogues,
Whodini,
Lyres,
JFA,
Brick,
Rod Modell,
Symarip,
Duran Duran,
Fat Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Leonard Cohen,
Roy Ayers,
Erasure,
Trumans Water,
Heaven 17,
Barbara Tucker,
Khruangbin,
Y Pants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Standells,
Marine Girls,
Radio Birdman,
Man Eating Sloth,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jacques Brel,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Talk Talk,
Tubeway Army,
Simply Red,
The Monks,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Five Americans,
Scratch Acid,
UT,
Loose Ends,
Skriet,
The Seeds,
X-101,
Stetsasonic,
Toni Rubio,
The Smiths,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.