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 Nigeria and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator 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 Barrington Levy to the grunge 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Swell Maps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Lungfish,
The Stooges,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Neu!,
Ultra Naté,
Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
The Wake,
Malaria!,
Zapp,
One Last Wish,
New York Dolls,
Cecil Taylor,
Marmalade,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
DNA,
Unwound,
Ohio Players,
Ralphi Rosario,
Charles Mingus,
Pylon,
Dead Boys,
R.M.O.,
Camouflage,
Dawn Penn,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sound Behaviour,
Warsaw,
Flash Fearless,
Eve St. Jones,
Scientists,
The Angels of Light,
Make Up,
Lightning Bolt,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Raincoats,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kaleidoscope,
Camberwell Now,
X-101,
Avey Tare,
Guru Guru,
Roger Hodgson,
Bluetip,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Shadows of Knight,
Aswad,
Gang Gang Dance,
Donald Byrd,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Talk Talk,
Chris & Cosey,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Real Kids,
Lalann,
Jerry's Kids,
Ultravox,
Max Romeo,
Sam Rivers,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.