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 Malta and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Sällskapet,
Suicide,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kurtis Blow,
The Barracudas,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Moody Blues,
Rod Modell,
Spoonie Gee,
Jeff Mills,
AZ,
Main Source,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joey Negro,
Archie Shepp,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
U.S. Maple,
Saccharine Trust,
Skriet,
The Pretty Things,
Lalann,
Hoover,
Roger Hodgson,
Eve St. Jones,
Monolake,
The Index,
the Slits,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Negative Approach,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ohio Players,
Erasure,
H. Thieme,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Tim Buckley,
Heaven 17,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Das Ding,
The Modern Lovers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sight & Sound,
Theoretical Girls,
Duran Duran,
Quadrant,
Brothers Johnson,
The Remains,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
10cc,
Scratch Acid,
The Gap Band,
Panda Bear,
Radio Birdman,
Traffic Nightmare,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Al Stewart,
Rites of Spring,
Howard Jones,
the Sonics,
Arcadia,
Kas Product,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.