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 Samoa and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Donald Fagen 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 Young Marble Giants to the electroclash 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
T. Rex,
the Normal,
Byron Stingily,
Lungfish,
Pulsallama,
The Residents,
Kerri Chandler,
Saccharine Trust,
Roxette,
Mandrill,
Aloha Tigers,
Barrington Levy,
Sällskapet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fluxion,
Peter and Kerry,
The Searchers,
Severed Heads,
Sixth Finger,
La Düsseldorf,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ludus,
Arcadia,
Ken Boothe,
Minutemen,
Negative Approach,
Patti Smith,
ABC,
CMW,
Deakin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Monks,
The Martian,
Pylon,
Minny Pops,
Skriet,
Cal Tjader,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stetsasonic,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Green,
Sexual Harrassment,
Niagra,
Guru Guru,
Soul II Soul,
The Litter,
Eddi Front,
The Moody Blues,
Bauhaus,
Roger Hodgson,
The Evens,
Sight & Sound,
Accadde A,
Monks,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.