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 Poland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 organ 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 The United States of America to the dance 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
PIL,
Terrestrial Tones,
T. Rex,
Aloha Tigers,
Tears for Fears,
Fear,
Marine Girls,
Deepchord,
K-Klass,
Black Sheep,
Jimmy McGriff,
Visage,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cybotron,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Star Department,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Can,
Niagra,
Main Source,
Wally Richardson,
Loose Ends,
The Raincoats,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Vainqueur,
Joensuu 1685,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Coltrane,
Procol Harum,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Girls At Our Best!,
Don Cherry,
Arab on Radar,
Drexciya,
Mad Mike,
Robert Hood,
Make Up,
Alton Ellis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Fortunes,
Minor Threat,
Tomorrow,
Sugar Minott,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Parry Music,
Donald Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Stooges,
Quantec,
John Cale,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hashim,
Kurtis Blow,
Basic Channel,
Desert Stars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Peter & Gordon,
Ohio Players,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.