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 St Lucia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Joyce Sims to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dual Sessions,
Kaleidoscope,
Alton Ellis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Severed Heads,
Delta 5,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Standells,
Surgeon,
Rakim,
Carl Craig,
Rekid,
Drive Like Jehu,
E-Dancer,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Shadows of Knight,
Joey Negro,
Soulsonic Force,
Pussy Galore,
ABC,
Scion,
John Coltrane,
Clear Light,
Minnie Riperton,
LL Cool J,
Guru Guru,
Franke,
Tomorrow,
Delon & Dalcan,
The New Christs,
Magma,
Loose Ends,
Mark Hollis,
Jeff Lynne,
Harry Pussy,
Johnny Osbourne,
the Germs,
R.M.O.,
Barclay James Harvest,
KRS-One,
Amon Düül II,
Jeff Mills,
Lindisfarne,
Excepter,
Shuggie Otis,
Bob Dylan,
UT,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Holt,
The Angels of Light,
Zapp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boz Scaggs,
Lalann,
Technova,
Gang Green,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.