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 Sweden and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crispian St. Peters to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eddi Front. All the underground hits.
All Donny Hathaway tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Saccharine Trust,
Maleditus Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Pole,
Half Japanese,
the Slits,
Gang Gang Dance,
Maurizio,
Clear Light,
The Shadows of Knight,
Judy Mowatt,
Kurtis Blow,
The Move,
Mad Mike,
The Music Machine,
Sandy B,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
One Last Wish,
Scientists,
Alice Coltrane,
Ken Boothe,
Radiohead,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fuzztones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Inner City,
The Modern Lovers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Depeche Mode,
The Doobie Brothers,
Yaz,
The Stooges,
Graham Central Station,
Juan Atkins,
Terry Callier,
The Searchers,
Marine Girls,
Television,
Subhumans,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Lydon,
Quantec,
Dawn Penn,
The Doors,
Gerry Rafferty,
Robert Görl,
Leonard Cohen,
Crime,
Marvin Gaye,
Lyres,
Gabor Szabo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Delon & Dalcan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tres Demented,
Freddie Wadling,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.