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 Sierra Leone and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the techno 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sister Nancy,
Kaleidoscope,
Alphaville,
The Martian,
The Happenings,
Man Parrish,
the Soft Cell,
Crime,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Cramps,
Los Fastidios,
MC5,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scientists,
New York Dolls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
X-102,
Infiniti,
the Bar-Kays,
The Leaves,
Animal Collective,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Albert Ayler,
Black Flag,
Main Source,
Masters at Work,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alice Coltrane,
The Slits,
Das Ding,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lungfish,
Alison Limerick,
Charles Mingus,
Lakeside,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Scratch Acid,
Jerry's Kids,
The Grass Roots,
Shuggie Otis,
Laurel Aitken,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roy Ayers,
Cecil Taylor,
Vladislav Delay,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Walker Brothers,
Derrick May,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Junior Murvin,
Peter and Kerry,
Steve Hackett,
Bill Near,
Eve St. Jones,
Kenny Larkin,
Kerrie Biddell,
Idris Muhammad,
Au Pairs,
Robert Wyatt,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.