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 Angola and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Black Pus to the grime 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pole,
Girls At Our Best!,
Motorama,
Arab on Radar,
F. McDonald,
Procol Harum,
Piero Umiliani,
The Gladiators,
Liliput,
Rakim,
a-ha,
The Alarm Clocks,
World's Most,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sparks,
Glenn Branca,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Kinks,
Spandau Ballet,
Scan 7,
Bill Near,
Minny Pops,
Hashim,
Urselle,
Shoche,
Index,
Angry Samoans,
Grey Daturas,
LL Cool J,
The Angels of Light,
Negative Approach,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dawn Penn,
Sarah Menescal,
Lungfish,
Lou Reed,
Radiohead,
The Toasters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Alton Ellis,
Soft Cell,
Sex Pistols,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Spoonie Gee,
the Bar-Kays,
Tubeway Army,
Masters at Work,
Laurel Aitken,
Derrick May,
Flipper,
Minutemen,
Gang Green,
Dark Day,
Pet Shop Boys,
Moebius,
The Dave Clark Five,
Swell Maps,
Zapp,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Doobie Brothers,
48th St. Collective,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.