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 Macedonia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord 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 The J.B.'s to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Deepchord,
Black Bananas,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Zapp,
Organ,
Man Parrish,
The Tremeloes,
Harry Pussy,
Make Up,
The Velvet Underground,
Eden Ahbez,
Lebanon Hanover,
Circle Jerks,
Nirvana,
The Music Machine,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gap Band,
June Days,
The Fugs,
Alice Coltrane,
Aural Exciters,
Gichy Dan,
Siglo XX,
Traffic Nightmare,
Juan Atkins,
Procol Harum,
Cheater Slicks,
Rhythm & Sound,
Idris Muhammad,
The Angels of Light,
The Fuzztones,
John Cale,
Soft Cell,
Essential Logic,
Charles Mingus,
Whodini,
Pulsallama,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Spoonie Gee,
Half Japanese,
Michelle Simonal,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Animal Collective,
Echospace,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Oblivians,
Yaz,
Amon Düül II,
Wasted Youth,
Underground Resistance,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Roger Hodgson,
Second Layer,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Newcleus,
KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One, KRS-One.
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.