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 Korea North and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Seoul.
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 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 Joey Negro to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One 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?
Amazonics,
Joe Finger,
Crooked Eye,
Sarah Menescal,
Mary Jane Girls,
Siglo XX,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Searchers,
Delta 5,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Camouflage,
Byron Stingily,
In Retrospect,
Don Cherry,
The Gun Club,
a-ha,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Accadde A,
The Fortunes,
The Music Machine,
Tomorrow,
The Durutti Column,
Public Enemy,
Junior Murvin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
D'Angelo,
Rites of Spring,
Essential Logic,
Ponytail,
Crime,
John Coltrane,
The Names,
Dead Boys,
Vainqueur,
Roy Ayers,
Pagans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arcadia,
The Smoke,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Techniques,
Von Mondo,
Fat Boys,
Maleditus Sound,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
AZ,
EPMD,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Marc Almond,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Drexciya,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Alison Limerick,
Nik Kershaw,
The Blackbyrds,
Loose Ends,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fire Engines,
Easy Going,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.