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 Lesotho and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Boz Scaggs to the rap 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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Talk Talk,
Darondo,
ABC,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Malaria!,
DJ Style,
Dennis Brown,
Procol Harum,
Howard Jones,
Drexciya,
Thee Headcoats,
Siglo XX,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Agent Orange,
Steve Hackett,
The American Breed,
Aloha Tigers,
Skriet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Absolute Body Control,
Wolf Eyes,
Amon Düül,
Subhumans,
OOIOO,
Connie Case,
Al Stewart,
Parry Music,
Ponytail,
the Human League,
Max Romeo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Visage,
Rod Modell,
Morten Harket,
The Grass Roots,
John Foxx,
Hot Snakes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Womack,
Kas Product,
Amon Düül II,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Neon Judgement,
The Red Krayola,
The Durutti Column,
Piero Umiliani,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Victims,
Groovy Waters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tomorrow,
The Move,
The Remains,
Hoover,
The Cramps,
It's A Beautiful Day,
MC5,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.