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 Gabon and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sister Nancy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Christie,
Hasil Adkins,
Funky Four + One,
T.S.O.L.,
Lungfish,
Pagans,
The Dirtbombs,
Sister Nancy,
Second Layer,
The Star Department,
Moby Grape,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jeff Mills,
Barrington Levy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cameo,
Arab on Radar,
Kayak,
Pussy Galore,
Groovy Waters,
Matthew Halsall,
Roy Ayers,
E-Dancer,
Talk Talk,
Charles Mingus,
David McCallum,
Lindisfarne,
Minny Pops,
Half Japanese,
Cal Tjader,
Marcia Griffiths,
Graham Central Station,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Seeds,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Mojo Men,
OOIOO,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Leaves,
Sam Rivers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pharoah Sanders,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Harmonia,
Anakelly,
Pantytec,
Reuben Wilson,
World's Most,
Minutemen,
X-102,
The Toasters,
Byron Stingily,
The Red Krayola,
Rakim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Unwound,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.