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 Denmark and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 Funkadelic to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Invisible,
Little Man,
Sight & Sound,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Leaves,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Hot Snakes,
Nico,
Audionom,
Angry Samoans,
Piero Umiliani,
John Lydon,
Rites of Spring,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Niagra,
Brick,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Freddie Wadling,
The Remains,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Man Parrish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
New Age Steppers,
This Heat,
Bill Wells,
Leonard Cohen,
The Saints,
Deepchord,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeru the Damaja,
Albert Ayler,
Sex Pistols,
Charles Mingus,
Mark Hollis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Saccharine Trust,
Crooked Eye,
Infiniti,
Masters at Work,
the Association,
Sugar Minott,
E-Dancer,
Stetsasonic,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lalo Schifrin,
Motorama,
Mo-Dettes,
JFA,
Surgeon,
Lungfish,
Parry Music,
The Gories,
Thee Headcoats,
Rosa Yemen,
Cameo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brass Construction,
The Real Kids,
Marmalade,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.