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 Brazil and from Hong Kong.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 linndrum 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 Franke to the rap 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Derrick May,
The Seeds,
CMW,
The Divine Comedy,
UT,
Thee Headcoats,
Pulsallama,
Visage,
Echospace,
Sarah Menescal,
Altered Images,
Country Teasers,
Gichy Dan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Soulsonic Force,
Thompson Twins,
Lindisfarne,
Easy Going,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bush Tetras,
Bluetip,
Zero Boys,
Grey Daturas,
Iggy Pop,
Motorama,
Surgeon,
F. McDonald,
Tom Boy,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Flag,
The Sonics,
Freddie Wadling,
T.S.O.L.,
Make Up,
Harmonia,
Soul Sonic Force,
John Coltrane,
Tubeway Army,
MC5,
Sister Nancy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jeff Lynne,
10cc,
Al Stewart,
Nas,
Television,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Unwound,
Maleditus Sound,
Ice-T,
Cal Tjader,
Althea and Donna,
Charles Mingus,
Michelle Simonal,
Deadbeat,
Tim Buckley,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Angry Samoans,
Ultra Naté,
Public Image Ltd.,
The J.B.'s,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.