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 Costa Rica and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Cameo,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Gang Dance,
Suicide,
Talk Talk,
8 Eyed Spy,
Qualms,
Echospace,
Henry Cow,
Eric Dolphy,
Amazonics,
Erykah Badu,
Byron Stingily,
The Zeros,
Pagans,
Idris Muhammad,
Letta Mbulu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aloha Tigers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sun City Girls,
Darondo,
Cheater Slicks,
Negative Approach,
Supertramp,
The Grass Roots,
One Last Wish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
X-Ray Spex,
F. McDonald,
Livin' Joy,
Technova,
The Count Five,
The Beau Brummels,
The Residents,
Bush Tetras,
The Dead C,
Trumans Water,
Surgeon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sällskapet,
Bobby Byrd,
Procol Harum,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alison Limerick,
Avey Tare,
B.T. Express,
Sixth Finger,
Franke,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Can,
The Velvet Underground,
Sarah Menescal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Black Sheep,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The J.B.'s,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.