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 Seychelles and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe 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 Popol Vuh to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
The Searchers,
Smog,
Siglo XX,
Carl Craig,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Donald Byrd,
Wolf Eyes,
Agent Orange,
Ultra Naté,
Sex Pistols,
Kas Product,
Youth Brigade,
Visage,
Amazonics,
Moby Grape,
Leonard Cohen,
Robert Hood,
Aural Exciters,
Skaos,
Gang Starr,
Blake Baxter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Deadbeat,
The Monks,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Electric Prunes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Alphaville,
The Five Americans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fat Boys,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sugar Minott,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barry Ungar,
Ice-T,
Marc Almond,
A Certain Ratio,
The Fortunes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brand Nubian,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Neon Judgement,
Angry Samoans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Andrew Hill,
Trumans Water,
Bill Near,
Neu!,
The Victims,
Khruangbin,
Judy Mowatt,
Mission of Burma,
Don Cherry,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harry Pussy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nation of Ulysses,
Mo-Dettes,
Essential Logic,
Blossom Toes,
Mark Hollis,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.