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 Equatorial Guinea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Livin' Joy to the disco 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls 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 Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
E-Dancer,
Morten Harket,
Icehouse,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Deepchord,
DJ Style,
Eric Copeland,
The Fuzztones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Buzzcocks,
Pharoah Sanders,
La Düsseldorf,
Eric Dolphy,
Nik Kershaw,
Roxette,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Stiv Bators,
Robert Wyatt,
Pierre Henry,
June Days,
Donny Hathaway,
Sister Nancy,
Delta 5,
Ornette Coleman,
Minny Pops,
Ituana,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sex Pistols,
Livin' Joy,
Jerry's Kids,
Minnie Riperton,
Andrew Hill,
Sixth Finger,
KRS-One,
Mandrill,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bang On A Can,
Sunsets and Hearts,
K-Klass,
Roxy Music,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rakim,
Wally Richardson,
Crooked Eye,
Quadrant,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Drexciya,
Graham Central Station,
The Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Buckinghams,
Johnny Clarke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Japan,
Chris Corsano,
Warsaw,
Arab on Radar,
The Motions,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Inner City,
Darondo,
Can,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.