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 Seoul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 harpsichord 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 Slick Rick to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Dennis Brown,
Piero Umiliani,
Cecil Taylor,
Andrew Hill,
Althea and Donna,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scan 7,
The Slits,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lakeside,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gun Club,
Gang Green,
The Offenders,
One Last Wish,
Howard Jones,
Absolute Body Control,
The Dead C,
Nas,
The Smiths,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alison Limerick,
Dual Sessions,
The Move,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sugar Minott,
Don Cherry,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mark Hollis,
the Germs,
Isaac Hayes,
Steve Hackett,
Whodini,
The Five Americans,
Mad Mike,
New Order,
The J.B.'s,
The Victims,
Crime,
Kaleidoscope,
Toni Rubio,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amon Düül II,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Organ,
The Leaves,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kurtis Blow,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boredoms,
Faraquet,
Fela Kuti,
Visage,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Holt,
AZ,
Bobby Womack,
Buzzcocks,
John Lydon,
Sandy B,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.