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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
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 Matthew Halsall to the grime 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
June of 44,
The Buckinghams,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Gladiators,
The Knickerbockers,
The Martian,
Groovy Waters,
Fugazi,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Skarface,
Pere Ubu,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ten City,
Deakin,
ABBA,
Average White Band,
Procol Harum,
Ultimate Spinach,
Yusef Lateef,
Nas,
Donny Hathaway,
Faust,
Von Mondo,
Yellowson,
The Moleskins,
The Busters,
Franke,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Barbara Tucker,
Crime,
Fluxion,
Shuggie Otis,
Roy Ayers,
DJ Sneak,
Sam Rivers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Oblivians,
Guru Guru,
The Fire Engines,
Desert Stars,
Skaos,
UT,
The Saints,
Loose Ends,
Rufus Thomas,
Eli Mardock,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Urselle,
Porter Ricks,
The Stooges,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soul II Soul,
Quando Quango,
Kevin Saunderson,
Surgeon,
Excepter,
Scratch Acid,
Radiohead,
K-Klass,
Nirvana,
Dave Gahan,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.