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 Tunisia and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sexual Harrassment to the rock 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
John Holt,
Niagra,
The Victims,
T.S.O.L.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Roxette,
Amon Düül II,
U.S. Maple,
Tears for Fears,
Barclay James Harvest,
David Bowie,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Derrick May,
Pere Ubu,
Smog,
Don Cherry,
Whodini,
Lower 48,
The Velvet Underground,
Procol Harum,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Goldenarms,
Cybotron,
The Doors,
Lalann,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Count Five,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Thee Headcoats,
Faraquet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mark Hollis,
Eve St. Jones,
Average White Band,
Tubeway Army,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Andrew Hill,
Lakeside,
The Beau Brummels,
Camberwell Now,
L. Decosne,
Radiohead,
Magazine,
Ralphi Rosario,
Danielle Patucci,
Deakin,
Can,
Arthur Verocai,
Scratch Acid,
Fela Kuti,
Mars,
Lou Reed,
The Gories,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Siglo XX,
Clear Light,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Gun Club,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.