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 Laos and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet 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 F. McDonald to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Max Romeo,
Symarip,
The Smiths,
The Litter,
Ludus,
Rites of Spring,
Alison Limerick,
Stereo Dub,
Sun Ra,
The Cowsills,
The Residents,
The Raincoats,
Lou Christie,
PIL,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aural Exciters,
Newcleus,
Iggy Pop,
Quadrant,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wally Richardson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
A Certain Ratio,
The Detroit Cobras,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marmalade,
Kevin Saunderson,
Archie Shepp,
Slave,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Flipper,
The Beau Brummels,
Excepter,
The Zeros,
Unwound,
The Moody Blues,
K-Klass,
MC5,
Ronan,
Joey Negro,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Rod Modell,
Alphaville,
Funky Four + One,
Groovy Waters,
Rufus Thomas,
Sandy B,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Slits,
Bobby Byrd,
Gabor Szabo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Dead Boys,
Fatback Band,
The Gladiators,
Godley & Creme,
Colin Newman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Association,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.