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 East Timor and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro 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 Camouflage to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Victims,
Althea and Donna,
Lindisfarne,
Joe Smooth,
Amon Düül,
Quadrant,
Flash Fearless,
Sparks,
Malaria!,
Lower 48,
Hasil Adkins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ultravox,
The Buckinghams,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neu!,
a-ha,
Magazine,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fad Gadget,
The Trojans,
Blossom Toes,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Gap Band,
The Toasters,
Man Parrish,
Average White Band,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Audionom,
Pantytec,
Urselle,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Mojo Men,
The Sonics,
Soft Machine,
June Days,
Mars,
Unrelated Segments,
Leonard Cohen,
Ice-T,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Vogues,
Curtis Mayfield,
LL Cool J,
The Cowsills,
Bang On A Can,
Sun City Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Accadde A,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dead Boys,
Tim Buckley,
Agent Orange,
Derrick Morgan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blake Baxter,
Matthew Halsall,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.