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 San Marino and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eve St. Jones to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Joe Smooth,
T. Rex,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dennis Brown,
Black Sheep,
The Moleskins,
Marc Almond,
Amon Düül,
Fad Gadget,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Essential Logic,
Fela Kuti,
Gabor Szabo,
The Toasters,
48th St. Collective,
Lightning Bolt,
The Walker Brothers,
Ossler,
Brass Construction,
Al Stewart,
Howard Jones,
Crooked Eye,
Reagan Youth,
A Certain Ratio,
Faraquet,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Smiths,
Clear Light,
This Heat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Public Enemy,
Camberwell Now,
The Beau Brummels,
London Community Gospel Choir,
a-ha,
The Doors,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun City Girls,
Chrome,
Cheater Slicks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mad Mike,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Stereo Dub,
Don Cherry,
Leonard Cohen,
The Trojans,
Japan,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Motions,
Peter and Kerry,
The Star Department,
Susan Cadogan,
Warren Ellis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gregory Isaacs,
ABC,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.