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 Uruguay and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sonny Sharrock 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 Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Sex Pistols,
Intrusion,
EPMD,
Mandrill,
New Order,
The Star Department,
Oblivians,
Procol Harum,
The Gap Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Doors,
Gang Starr,
The Index,
Sixth Finger,
Nils Olav,
Fela Kuti,
Lou Christie,
Darondo,
The Fugs,
Infiniti,
Vladislav Delay,
R.M.O.,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Skarface,
the Slits,
Tres Demented,
Smog,
Pere Ubu,
Fatback Band,
Sugar Minott,
The Standells,
Marmalade,
Amon Düül II,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radiohead,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bizarre Inc.,
Black Moon,
Schoolly D,
Sun City Girls,
The Five Americans,
FM Einheit,
Boredoms,
Lungfish,
Todd Rundgren,
Tommy Roe,
Eric Copeland,
The Evens,
Sonny Sharrock,
A Certain Ratio,
Animal Collective,
The Saints,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Sherman,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Alphaville,
Interpol,
The Count Five,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.