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 Argentina and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 Paris and Hong Kong.
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 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 Gabor Szabo to the grunge 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
The United States of America,
Nirvana,
Cameo,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Dirtbombs,
Yaz,
Deakin,
Intrusion,
Delta 5,
Roxette,
Sister Nancy,
Lou Christie,
The Moleskins,
Half Japanese,
Ohio Players,
The Techniques,
The Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Funky Four + One,
Eden Ahbez,
Swans,
Supertramp,
Ice-T,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fugs,
Boz Scaggs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bush Tetras,
Peter and Kerry,
Inner City,
Franke,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Green,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Iggy Pop,
Spandau Ballet,
The Leaves,
Harry Pussy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pharoah Sanders,
New Age Steppers,
The Last Poets,
Panda Bear,
Wasted Youth,
Lakeside,
Lungfish,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Victims,
Charles Mingus,
Young Marble Giants,
The Selecter,
Lower 48,
Los Fastidios,
Black Sheep,
Banda Bassotti,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jacob Miller,
Kerri Chandler,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
kango's stein massive,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.