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 Belarus and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Niagra to the rap 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Black Sheep,
Al Stewart,
Supertramp,
Flamin' Groovies,
D'Angelo,
Subhumans,
Animal Collective,
Dead Boys,
AZ,
Roxy Music,
Lungfish,
K-Klass,
B.T. Express,
Mo-Dettes,
The Happenings,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
David Axelrod,
Visage,
the Swans,
Tres Demented,
Accadde A,
Sight & Sound,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott Heron,
Moss Icon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Interpol,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rotary Connection,
The Misunderstood,
The Smiths,
Oneida,
The Stooges,
Idris Muhammad,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Gun Club,
A Certain Ratio,
Alice Coltrane,
Yusef Lateef,
Stetsasonic,
Scientists,
Basic Channel,
Sixth Finger,
Roxette,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Mummies,
LL Cool J,
Los Fastidios,
Alphaville,
Man Parrish,
Eddi Front,
Blossom Toes,
Connie Case,
The Mojo Men,
Harmonia,
Tears for Fears,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Pus,
Brick,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.