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 Ethiopia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the dance 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 Kinks. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Isaac Hayes,
Blake Baxter,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Gun Club,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ken Boothe,
Sun City Girls,
T. Rex,
Pole,
Graham Central Station,
Shoche,
Anthony Braxton,
Nils Olav,
Cybotron,
Barry Ungar,
The Kinks,
The Five Americans,
Oblivians,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Brothers Johnson,
Blancmange,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tom Boy,
Soulsonic Force,
Harry Pussy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultra Naté,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joy Division,
Judy Mowatt,
New York Dolls,
Cheater Slicks,
Heaven 17,
Black Sheep,
The Mojo Men,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sandy B,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Eric Dolphy,
Johnny Clarke,
Stiv Bators,
Camberwell Now,
X-102,
Aural Exciters,
Vladislav Delay,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
cv313,
the Fania All-Stars,
Byron Stingily,
Bush Tetras,
Absolute Body Control,
Chrome,
The Invisible,
Y Pants,
Pagans,
Altered Images,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marvin Gaye,
Gregory Isaacs,
Depeche Mode,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.