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 San Marino and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 The Red Krayola to the grunge 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Niagra,
Organ,
DJ Style,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pantaleimon,
Jawbox,
Eurythmics,
Dorothy Ashby,
Neil Young,
Rufus Thomas,
Drexciya,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Heaven 17,
Michelle Simonal,
Jeff Lynne,
Derrick Morgan,
Groovy Waters,
Lalann,
Shuggie Otis,
Make Up,
MDC,
Delon & Dalcan,
X-102,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thompson Twins,
Charles Mingus,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Flag,
John Coltrane,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joey Negro,
Jacob Miller,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lakeside,
Alphaville,
Popol Vuh,
Matthew Halsall,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brothers Johnson,
Pagans,
The Electric Prunes,
Shoche,
Franke,
Monolake,
Sun Ra,
Black Pus,
The Young Rascals,
The Toasters,
Johnny Clarke,
Robert Hood,
DNA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marmalade,
New York Dolls,
Chrome,
Country Joe & The Fish,
John Foxx,
Mission of Burma,
The Walker Brothers,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.