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 Ukraine and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 E-Dancer to the disco 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 Swell Maps. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soulsonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kool Moe Dee,
June Days,
Heaven 17,
LL Cool J,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gregory Isaacs,
The J.B.'s,
The Star Department,
the Swans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mandrill,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Invisible,
Gichy Dan,
Robert Hood,
Sonny Sharrock,
Buzzcocks,
Letta Mbulu,
Kerrie Biddell,
F. McDonald,
The Searchers,
Robert Wyatt,
E-Dancer,
Morten Harket,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yellowson,
Bill Near,
Khruangbin,
Blancmange,
The Five Americans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Steve Hackett,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
R.M.O.,
X-102,
The Leaves,
Metal Thangz,
Colin Newman,
Desert Stars,
Rekid,
Simply Red,
Rites of Spring,
Public Enemy,
The Velvet Underground,
Fugazi,
Lindisfarne,
Television,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Matthew Halsall,
Hoover,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pantaleimon,
These Immortal Souls,
Quando Quango,
Tom Boy,
The Doors,
Judy Mowatt,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.