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 Italy and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord 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 The Star Department to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Carl Craig,
The Gladiators,
the Sonics,
the Normal,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Thee Headcoats,
Crispian St. Peters,
Symarip,
Donny Hathaway,
8 Eyed Spy,
Thompson Twins,
Jeff Mills,
The Standells,
The Trojans,
The Black Dice,
Prince Buster,
These Immortal Souls,
Royal Trux,
Ultra Naté,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jeff Lynne,
Man Parrish,
Barbara Tucker,
Average White Band,
Soft Machine,
The Gun Club,
Alison Limerick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun Ra,
Colin Newman,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Peter & Gordon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bizarre Inc.,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Litter,
Suicide,
Public Enemy,
Jawbox,
Niagra,
Agitation Free,
Kenny Larkin,
Bob Dylan,
Make Up,
The Fall,
Reuben Wilson,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lalann,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kerrie Biddell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
K-Klass,
Hardrive,
Eric Dolphy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
David McCallum,
World's Most,
Steve Hackett,
Marshall Jefferson,
Junior Murvin,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.