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 Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Peter and Kerry to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
The Beau Brummels,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Drexciya,
Surgeon,
X-102,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Slick Rick,
The Fortunes,
The Busters,
Laurel Aitken,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Suicide,
Bang On A Can,
Livin' Joy,
Johnny Clarke,
New Order,
The Cure,
The Dead C,
Derrick Morgan,
Television Personalities,
Yazoo,
Roxette,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Funkadelic,
Brand Nubian,
Adolescents,
Gang Starr,
Desert Stars,
Blancmange,
Mars,
Scratch Acid,
Rufus Thomas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Junior Murvin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harry Pussy,
Mad Mike,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Faraquet,
Vainqueur,
The Remains,
Black Bananas,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Standells,
Inner City,
Silicon Teens,
Delta 5,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Young Marble Giants,
This Heat,
Peter & Gordon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Monochrome Set,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Porter Ricks,
Basic Channel,
Marcia Griffiths,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sparks,
Groovy Waters,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.