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 Switzerland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Wally Richardson to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Roger Hodgson. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Thompson Twins,
Stockholm Monsters,
Flash Fearless,
Jawbox,
Das Ding,
Man Parrish,
Inner City,
The Sound,
Spandau Ballet,
Malaria!,
Swell Maps,
Freddie Wadling,
Deakin,
Echospace,
Brothers Johnson,
the Germs,
Average White Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Visage,
Section 25,
Robert Hood,
Jeru the Damaja,
Half Japanese,
The Searchers,
Parry Music,
kango's stein massive,
Gabor Szabo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Fania All-Stars,
Chris & Cosey,
Ponytail,
The Last Poets,
Slave,
Franke,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Standells,
Niagra,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deadbeat,
Erasure,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Tim Buckley,
One Last Wish,
The Zeros,
The Gun Club,
Nas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
UT,
The Victims,
Funkadelic,
Massinfluence,
The Invisible,
Morten Harket,
Main Source,
Trumans Water,
Ralphi Rosario,
Easy Going,
Bobby Sherman,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mark Hollis,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.