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 Haiti and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker,
Boredoms,
Ornette Coleman,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Angels of Light,
Crooked Eye,
Zapp,
James White and The Blacks,
Sun City Girls,
Blancmange,
Crispy Ambulance,
Main Source,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Quadrant,
Lou Christie,
The Flesh Eaters,
Suburban Knight,
The Birthday Party,
Albert Ayler,
The Saints,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lalann,
Deakin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Human League,
8 Eyed Spy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
John Foxx,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sarah Menescal,
Byron Stingily,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Smoke,
The Remains,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Avey Tare,
Fugazi,
Urselle,
Soulsonic Force,
Barbara Tucker,
The Modern Lovers,
Prince Buster,
Fat Boys,
the Germs,
Cal Tjader,
Black Sheep,
Vladislav Delay,
Tomorrow,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sound,
The Offenders,
the Sonics,
Letta Mbulu,
Index,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dark Day,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.