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 Malaysia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 rhodes 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Ituana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Lee Hazlewood,
Aural Exciters,
Derrick Morgan,
Grey Daturas,
Yusef Lateef,
Barclay James Harvest,
Severed Heads,
Bad Manners,
The Dead C,
Alphaville,
Grauzone,
Soul Sonic Force,
Technova,
Arab on Radar,
Camberwell Now,
Royal Trux,
Stereo Dub,
Sex Pistols,
Letta Mbulu,
John Foxx,
Circle Jerks,
Mad Mike,
Toni Rubio,
The Electric Prunes,
Symarip,
MC5,
Henry Cow,
Rosa Yemen,
John Cale,
Lower 48,
Matthew Halsall,
DJ Style,
The Residents,
Intrusion,
Terry Callier,
The Last Poets,
Second Layer,
Judy Mowatt,
The Skatalites,
Freddie Wadling,
Swans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Womack,
Rufus Thomas,
Marvin Gaye,
48th St. Collective,
Sexual Harrassment,
kango's stein massive,
The Black Dice,
the Normal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Moon,
Bobby Byrd,
Peter and Kerry,
Don Cherry,
The Blues Magoos,
DJ Sneak,
Saccharine Trust,
Hashim,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.