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 Turkey and from Edmonton.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fugs to the punk 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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Ken Boothe,
Sixth Finger,
The Dirtbombs,
Josef K,
Sister Nancy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Intrusion,
EPMD,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soft Cell,
Skaos,
The Beau Brummels,
Judy Mowatt,
Dual Sessions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sam Rivers,
X-101,
Desert Stars,
Average White Band,
Black Sheep,
Depeche Mode,
Roxette,
Byron Stingily,
Moss Icon,
Severed Heads,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The United States of America,
Radio Birdman,
Hardrive,
The Gories,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Sherman,
Ronnie Foster,
James White and The Blacks,
Black Pus,
Loose Ends,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Sound,
The Pretty Things,
The Human League,
Audionom,
Junior Murvin,
Sight & Sound,
Yellowson,
The New Christs,
Boz Scaggs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sound Behaviour,
Eurythmics,
Ornette Coleman,
Clear Light,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sonic Youth,
David Bowie,
Thompson Twins,
The Fugs,
Derrick Morgan,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.