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 Taiwan and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eric Dolphy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Piero Umiliani,
AZ,
Black Pus,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fire Engines,
Sun Ra,
Q65,
David Bowie,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Human League,
Albert Ayler,
New Age Steppers,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Electric Prunes,
The Monochrome Set,
Skriet,
Brick,
The Divine Comedy,
Rufus Thomas,
DNA,
The Slits,
Sound Behaviour,
Magazine,
Colin Newman,
Pantaleimon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Man Eating Sloth,
Main Source,
Fear,
Panda Bear,
The Knickerbockers,
One Last Wish,
Young Marble Giants,
Freddie Wadling,
Pussy Galore,
Bluetip,
Visage,
Tom Boy,
Chris Corsano,
The Fuzztones,
T.S.O.L.,
ABBA,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Boz Scaggs,
Trumans Water,
Sun City Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gladiators,
Pere Ubu,
Scan 7,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
K-Klass,
Mandrill,
Wire,
Electric Prunes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roger Hodgson,
The Velvet Underground,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.