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 France and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Althea and Donna,
Hardrive,
Motorama,
The Fire Engines,
Crispian St. Peters,
Au Pairs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Porter Ricks,
The Fuzztones,
Archie Shepp,
Albert Ayler,
Joyce Sims,
Marine Girls,
The Pop Group,
Funky Four + One,
Minny Pops,
Arcadia,
The Selecter,
Aural Exciters,
Crooked Eye,
Laurel Aitken,
Slave,
Gang Green,
48th St. Collective,
Glenn Branca,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Yusef Lateef,
The Move,
The Durutti Column,
Dead Boys,
New York Dolls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wolf Eyes,
Bobby Sherman,
UT,
Jeff Lynne,
John Cale,
Kerrie Biddell,
Flipper,
Scott Walker,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Tremeloes,
Scrapy,
Sister Nancy,
Al Stewart,
Agitation Free,
Hoover,
Davy DMX,
Zapp,
Sandy B,
Faraquet,
Rotary Connection,
The Fugs,
Basic Channel,
Boredoms,
Supertramp,
The Techniques,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.