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 Micronesia and from Bologna.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 clarinet 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 Radio Birdman to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Nick Fraelich,
The Remains,
Tommy Roe,
Tropical Tobacco,
CMW,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Buzzcocks,
Supertramp,
Henry Cow,
8 Eyed Spy,
This Heat,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tubeway Army,
The Index,
Donald Byrd,
Howard Jones,
Soft Machine,
The Doors,
The Gun Club,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Franke,
Wings,
Patti Smith,
The Litter,
Ituana,
Josef K,
Kayak,
Ken Boothe,
The Real Kids,
X-101,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jeff Mills,
Public Image Ltd.,
Yaz,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Trojans,
Guru Guru,
Moebius,
KRS-One,
Tomorrow,
Animal Collective,
Black Flag,
Sandy B,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Kinks,
Jerry's Kids,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dark Day,
The Mummies,
Electric Prunes,
The Skatalites,
The Buckinghams,
Alice Coltrane,
MC5,
Faust,
The Five Americans,
Sun Ra,
Fela Kuti,
Arcadia,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.