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 Botswana and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Paris.
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 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 June of 44 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sonny Sharrock. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
DJ Sneak,
the Sonics,
Bobby Womack,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Big Daddy Kane,
Index,
The Cure,
The Motions,
Neu!,
Danielle Patucci,
Pussy Galore,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
JFA,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gladiators,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wolf Eyes,
The Walker Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sugar Minott,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
D'Angelo,
The Grass Roots,
Dennis Brown,
New York Dolls,
Robert Wyatt,
Ponytail,
The Fugs,
the Normal,
Gregory Isaacs,
Goldenarms,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Lydon,
Avey Tare,
The Blues Magoos,
The Fuzztones,
Bobby Sherman,
Soft Cell,
The Techniques,
Thee Headcoats,
The Pop Group,
Oneida,
Cybotron,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mr. Review,
Duran Duran,
Zero Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Agent Orange,
Zapp,
The Modern Lovers,
Idris Muhammad,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Human League,
Skaos,
Japan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Move,
The Gun Club,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.