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 Bahrain and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 sitar 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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Peter & Gordon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Skatalites,
John Cale,
Angry Samoans,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
New Age Steppers,
Sun City Girls,
Matthew Bourne,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Quadrant,
The Trojans,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Skriet,
H. Thieme,
The Names,
Jandek,
Black Sheep,
Franke,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Maleditus Sound,
Pantytec,
Flipper,
Das Ding,
The Flesh Eaters,
Marvin Gaye,
Boz Scaggs,
Royal Trux,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sex Pistols,
Second Layer,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Japan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hashim,
Lou Christie,
Chrome,
Excepter,
Aloha Tigers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gang of Four,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cecil Taylor,
a-ha,
The Seeds,
Spandau Ballet,
Althea and Donna,
Darondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rosa Yemen,
Vladislav Delay,
Arthur Verocai,
Thompson Twins,
Ultravox,
Soul Sonic Force,
Monks,
The Golliwogs,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.