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 Barbados and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lalo Schifrin to the grime 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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
Soft Machine,
Trumans Water,
Piero Umiliani,
Electric Prunes,
Todd Terry,
Mary Jane Girls,
DNA,
Fatback Band,
Monks,
Roxette,
James White and The Blacks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yellowson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cybotron,
PIL,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Tremeloes,
Supertramp,
Jeff Mills,
The Count Five,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minnie Riperton,
Amazonics,
The Young Rascals,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dennis Brown,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Porter Ricks,
The Happenings,
The Seeds,
The Litter,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Selecter,
Scratch Acid,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cal Tjader,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Little Man,
Aural Exciters,
Rekid,
Tom Boy,
Oblivians,
Stockholm Monsters,
Toni Rubio,
the Human League,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ten City,
DJ Style,
The Monks,
Don Cherry,
June of 44,
Rites of Spring,
The Gap Band,
The Moody Blues,
Mad Mike,
Bill Near,
B.T. Express,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.