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 Mongolia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Qualms to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cramps,
The American Breed,
The Kinks,
Sight & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Parry Music,
The Beau Brummels,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crooked Eye,
This Heat,
F. McDonald,
The Real Kids,
Liliput,
Eric Copeland,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Freddie Wadling,
Johnny Clarke,
Bad Manners,
Aural Exciters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Chris & Cosey,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
10cc,
Brick,
Wolf Eyes,
Funky Four + One,
Depeche Mode,
Khruangbin,
The J.B.'s,
New York Dolls,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
ABBA,
Roxy Music,
The Gap Band,
Ultra Naté,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Talk Talk,
Byron Stingily,
Accadde A,
Simply Red,
Ohio Players,
The Stooges,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Skarface,
The Techniques,
New Age Steppers,
The Monks,
Nik Kershaw,
Can,
Absolute Body Control,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alison Limerick,
H. Thieme,
Quando Quango,
Tears for Fears,
Y Pants,
Yaz,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.