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 Latvia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Theoretical Girls to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Don Cherry,
The Music Machine,
Tom Boy,
Dennis Brown,
Tears for Fears,
Rod Modell,
Freddie Wadling,
Echospace,
The J.B.'s,
The Martian,
The Monks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dave Gahan,
Moby Grape,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Monolake,
Sugar Minott,
Thee Headcoats,
Supertramp,
Henry Cow,
Wally Richardson,
Yellowson,
This Heat,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Zapp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Toasters,
Black Sheep,
Junior Murvin,
Brass Construction,
Barry Ungar,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bill Wells,
Alison Limerick,
Terry Callier,
The Golliwogs,
Porter Ricks,
KRS-One,
D'Angelo,
Suburban Knight,
Man Parrish,
Wolf Eyes,
Aswad,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Panda Bear,
Stiv Bators,
Mark Hollis,
Franke,
Eric Dolphy,
Massinfluence,
Lyres,
Jeff Lynne,
Erykah Badu,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mandrill,
Symarip,
The Barracudas,
Gerry Rafferty,
Laurel Aitken,
Tres Demented,
Dead Boys,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.