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 Egypt and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sandy B to the crunk 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Siglo XX,
Flash Fearless,
Wire,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Fatback Band,
Hashim,
These Immortal Souls,
The Leaves,
Camberwell Now,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mad Mike,
Agent Orange,
Guru Guru,
10cc,
Arcadia,
the Fania All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
Sight & Sound,
Massinfluence,
Chrome,
Roxette,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tres Demented,
Black Moon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ultimate Spinach,
Technova,
Shuggie Otis,
Crime,
Marvin Gaye,
David Axelrod,
DJ Sneak,
James White and The Blacks,
Eddi Front,
Neu!,
Surgeon,
John Holt,
Bootsy Collins,
Boz Scaggs,
The Move,
The Monochrome Set,
Joe Smooth,
Excepter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Juan Atkins,
Oneida,
Albert Ayler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Count Five,
Glenn Branca,
Y Pants,
Idris Muhammad,
Faraquet,
Outsiders,
Vladislav Delay,
Country Teasers,
Sun City Girls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sister Nancy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tommy Roe,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.