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 Turkmenistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 spring reverb 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 8 Eyed Spy to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
The Litter,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eddi Front,
Talk Talk,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
La Düsseldorf,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
New York Dolls,
Wally Richardson,
June Days,
Kevin Saunderson,
KRS-One,
Gichy Dan,
Gil Scott Heron,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kerrie Biddell,
Flash Fearless,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Magazine,
Aural Exciters,
Whodini,
The Evens,
Loose Ends,
Zero Boys,
Peter and Kerry,
David Bowie,
Tropical Tobacco,
Amon Düül,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Saints,
Rapeman,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Little Man,
Matthew Bourne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
ABC,
The Slackers,
Scan 7,
Electric Prunes,
Peter & Gordon,
Althea and Donna,
Morten Harket,
Section 25,
Alphaville,
The Tremeloes,
The Music Machine,
Bobby Womack,
Sandy B,
New Order,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Names,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cecil Taylor,
The Martian,
Deepchord,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dead Boys,
Brand Nubian,
Main Source,
Masters at Work,
Joy Division,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.