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 Bahrain and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Soft Cell to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Siglo XX,
Black Moon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Yusef Lateef,
Organ,
Crispy Ambulance,
Letta Mbulu,
Monolake,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
KRS-One,
Monks,
Jeff Lynne,
The Five Americans,
The Slits,
Maurizio,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Grey Daturas,
Royal Trux,
Whodini,
Joe Smooth,
Oneida,
Agitation Free,
Carl Craig,
Quantec,
The Human League,
Sex Pistols,
Absolute Body Control,
Josef K,
Jawbox,
Roxette,
Soulsonic Force,
Spoonie Gee,
Delon & Dalcan,
Shoche,
Roy Ayers,
Duran Duran,
Ronan,
Alison Limerick,
Sällskapet,
Pantaleimon,
Steve Hackett,
Jerry's Kids,
The Cramps,
Todd Rundgren,
Q and Not U,
Harry Pussy,
Derrick May,
UT,
Clear Light,
Eddi Front,
Brass Construction,
Procol Harum,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Joey Negro,
ABBA,
The Mojo Men,
The Remains,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Anthony Braxton,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.