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 Turkey and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba 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 Eddi Front to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
The Searchers,
Funkadelic,
Oblivians,
Dead Boys,
Khruangbin,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Litter,
The Fugs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Joy Division,
Warsaw,
John Cale,
Alphaville,
Wasted Youth,
The Skatalites,
The Doobie Brothers,
Theoretical Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eve St. Jones,
Todd Rundgren,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Arab on Radar,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Inner City,
Flamin' Groovies,
Howard Jones,
Susan Cadogan,
Ken Boothe,
Henry Cow,
Carl Craig,
Groovy Waters,
Pantaleimon,
Jeff Lynne,
Parry Music,
Echospace,
Basic Channel,
Rotary Connection,
Simply Red,
Isaac Hayes,
Skriet,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Near,
Dennis Brown,
The Velvet Underground,
Main Source,
Sister Nancy,
Suicide,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Maleditus Sound,
Moby Grape,
Peter and Kerry,
Funky Four + One,
Donny Hathaway,
Andrew Hill,
Eddi Front,
The Golliwogs,
June of 44,
James White and The Blacks,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.