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 Brazil and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Roy Ayers to the punk 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Ludus,
Big Daddy Kane,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Normal,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Isaac Hayes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flipper,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ice-T,
Y Pants,
Stetsasonic,
Icehouse,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pole,
The Cure,
Scion,
Mark Hollis,
The Neon Judgement,
DJ Sneak,
Pagans,
Gong,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Holt,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Minnie Riperton,
Stereo Dub,
Lyres,
the Sonics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mars,
The Busters,
Ossler,
Donald Byrd,
Visage,
Idris Muhammad,
One Last Wish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cal Tjader,
Bill Near,
The Litter,
The Tremeloes,
Newcleus,
Kenny Larkin,
The Dirtbombs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Suicide,
Mr. Review,
Freddie Wadling,
The Searchers,
Kurtis Blow,
Toni Rubio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Metal Thangz,
Massinfluence,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Depeche Mode,
Anthony Braxton,
Lalo Schifrin,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.