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 Liechtenstein and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Jimmy McGriff to the rock 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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
The Dead C,
Nation of Ulysses,
R.M.O.,
Kevin Saunderson,
Radio Birdman,
Average White Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eden Ahbez,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Iggy Pop,
Lou Reed,
Godley & Creme,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harmonia,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wally Richardson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nils Olav,
Eric Copeland,
Robert Görl,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Minny Pops,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
X-Ray Spex,
Tears for Fears,
Marmalade,
ABBA,
Avey Tare,
Althea and Donna,
The Star Department,
Hasil Adkins,
Guru Guru,
Liliput,
Stereo Dub,
Janne Schatter,
Lungfish,
Jacques Brel,
The Victims,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Skriet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ten City,
Angry Samoans,
Heaven 17,
Bush Tetras,
The Move,
The Skatalites,
Das Ding,
Scott Walker,
Lindisfarne,
Sarah Menescal,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Judy Mowatt,
Fugazi,
Brothers Johnson,
Man Parrish,
Magma,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.