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 Serbia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 David Bowie 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 Icehouse to the electroclash 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Tears for Fears,
Minnie Riperton,
Isaac Hayes,
Scott Walker,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joe Smooth,
Wire,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeru the Damaja,
Public Image Ltd.,
Deadbeat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dennis Brown,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ornette Coleman,
T.S.O.L.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Names,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sound Behaviour,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Bananas,
The Fall,
In Retrospect,
Talk Talk,
Oblivians,
Man Parrish,
Wolf Eyes,
Henry Cow,
Ludus,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cowsills,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Main Source,
CMW,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric Copeland,
Kurtis Blow,
the Swans,
Junior Murvin,
Lindisfarne,
Rites of Spring,
Brass Construction,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Hasil Adkins,
The Durutti Column,
Freddie Wadling,
Arab on Radar,
F. McDonald,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
PIL,
Davy DMX,
Loose Ends,
Barry Ungar,
Ken Boothe,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Sheep,
Warsaw,
a-ha,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.