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 Uganda and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dorothy Ashby to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Easy Going,
Rufus Thomas,
Radio Birdman,
Simply Red,
Junior Murvin,
Lower 48,
Slave,
Bobby Sherman,
Goldenarms,
June Days,
Minnie Riperton,
Bronski Beat,
Chrome,
Matthew Halsall,
X-Ray Spex,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun City Girls,
The Gap Band,
Byron Stingily,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Wyatt,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Buckinghams,
Bobby Womack,
Arthur Verocai,
Second Layer,
Eric B and Rakim,
Urselle,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Vogues,
Dorothy Ashby,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Modern Lovers,
Television,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sonics,
Von Mondo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fire Engines,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Johnny Clarke,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Intrusion,
Supertramp,
Sonic Youth,
The Techniques,
Scratch Acid,
The Fuzztones,
Crime,
T.S.O.L.,
Tomorrow,
Bob Dylan,
The Busters,
Nas,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.