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 El Salvador and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Hong Kong and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator 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 Max Romeo to the techno 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
One Last Wish,
Letta Mbulu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bill Near,
Sun City Girls,
Stiv Bators,
Country Teasers,
Patti Smith,
Nick Fraelich,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sex Pistols,
Brick,
The Red Krayola,
John Lydon,
Donald Byrd,
Minnie Riperton,
Lyres,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Byrd,
The Slackers,
World's Most,
The Toasters,
Junior Murvin,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Livin' Joy,
Terry Callier,
CMW,
Matthew Bourne,
Barry Ungar,
Rhythm & Sound,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Carl Craig,
Cameo,
Chris Corsano,
Moby Grape,
Smog,
PIL,
Altered Images,
The Divine Comedy,
Darondo,
The Fortunes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Procol Harum,
Niagra,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flamin' Groovies,
Saccharine Trust,
Amon Düül II,
Sixth Finger,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Cale,
Aaron Thompson,
Con Funk Shun,
The Doobie Brothers,
David Axelrod,
the Bar-Kays,
Kerri Chandler,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Colin Newman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.