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 Serbia 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 Fire Engines to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Judy Mowatt,
Kenny Larkin,
Joe Smooth,
Alton Ellis,
The Durutti Column,
John Coltrane,
Icehouse,
Rufus Thomas,
Kerri Chandler,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Motorama,
Curtis Mayfield,
Youth Brigade,
Goldenarms,
Monks,
Sällskapet,
Second Layer,
T.S.O.L.,
The Evens,
Ultravox,
The Index,
Harmonia,
Suburban Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Neil Young,
Monolake,
Drexciya,
Hashim,
Aloha Tigers,
Barrington Levy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pussy Galore,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Inner City,
Jacob Miller,
Technova,
Bobby Sherman,
Erykah Badu,
Crispy Ambulance,
Porter Ricks,
Lalann,
The Names,
Drive Like Jehu,
EPMD,
Interpol,
The Slits,
Zapp,
Godley & Creme,
Kurtis Blow,
Clear Light,
The Beau Brummels,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Slackers,
Rapeman,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
H. Thieme,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.