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 Algeria and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 The Gun Club to the punk 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gregory Isaacs,
Talk Talk,
The Raincoats,
The Blues Magoos,
Man Eating Sloth,
Crispian St. Peters,
This Heat,
Chris Corsano,
Fear,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Star Department,
Whodini,
The Monochrome Set,
Animal Collective,
Gang of Four,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roger Hodgson,
Public Image Ltd.,
Skriet,
Jawbox,
Flamin' Groovies,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jeff Mills,
Newcleus,
U.S. Maple,
Fad Gadget,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Amon Düül II,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deepchord,
Blancmange,
Bluetip,
Radio Birdman,
Gabor Szabo,
Dawn Penn,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kurtis Blow,
Pussy Galore,
KRS-One,
E-Dancer,
The Cramps,
Chrome,
Curtis Mayfield,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cameo,
The Red Krayola,
Maleditus Sound,
Suburban Knight,
Avey Tare,
Fluxion,
Stiv Bators,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.