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 Brunei and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Hong Kong.
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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Shuggie Otis to the dance 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Marvin Gaye,
Cheater Slicks,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantytec,
La Düsseldorf,
Animal Collective,
X-101,
Model 500,
Slick Rick,
Camberwell Now,
DNA,
Jacob Miller,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Brand Nubian,
Theoretical Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Deepchord,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cal Tjader,
Skriet,
Scratch Acid,
Amazonics,
Ken Boothe,
The Black Dice,
Los Fastidios,
Circle Jerks,
Marc Almond,
Jeru the Damaja,
Glenn Branca,
Dual Sessions,
The Standells,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Doobie Brothers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rekid,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang of Four,
Fear,
Camouflage,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pulsallama,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeff Lynne,
Urselle,
Saccharine Trust,
Lakeside,
The Pretty Things,
Soft Machine,
Echospace,
Icehouse,
Half Japanese,
Joyce Sims,
Erykah Badu,
Cluster,
Country Teasers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Eddi Front,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.