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 Kosovo and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 The Fortunes to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Duran Duran,
Mr. Review,
Robert Görl,
Skriet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Motorama,
Underground Resistance,
Wings,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang of Four,
Nik Kershaw,
The United States of America,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Human League,
Icehouse,
The Techniques,
OOIOO,
Scientists,
John Cale,
Saccharine Trust,
Zero Boys,
Dark Day,
Hardrive,
Public Enemy,
Henry Cow,
Lower 48,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Adolescents,
The Vogues,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
AZ,
Gabor Szabo,
Absolute Body Control,
The Buckinghams,
Robert Wyatt,
The Smoke,
Index,
Das Ding,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ronan,
Eve St. Jones,
Funkadelic,
Neil Young,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Franke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Soul II Soul,
Sexual Harrassment,
Q and Not U,
Moby Grape,
Parry Music,
Rakim,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
UT,
the Bar-Kays,
Hashim,
the Slits,
Iggy Pop,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.