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 St Lucia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 L. Decosne to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Tim Buckley,
Don Cherry,
Todd Rundgren,
The Raincoats,
Lalo Schifrin,
Con Funk Shun,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
June of 44,
The Music Machine,
Glambeats Corp.,
The New Christs,
Bang On A Can,
Urselle,
Funky Four + One,
Masters at Work,
PIL,
Mars,
Theoretical Girls,
The Doors,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brick,
Pere Ubu,
Nik Kershaw,
Lower 48,
This Heat,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Schoolly D,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dead C,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Human League,
The Vogues,
Y Pants,
The Residents,
Bobby Womack,
Fat Boys,
Fear,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Television,
The Martian,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Pretty Things,
Ossler,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Simply Red,
Half Japanese,
Boz Scaggs,
Lyres,
Scott Walker,
Tres Demented,
The Fortunes,
Unwound,
Nico,
The Modern Lovers,
World's Most,
Moby Grape,
James White and The Blacks,
The Golliwogs,
Black Sheep,
Aswad,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.