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 Guyana and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 synthesizer 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 Barclay James Harvest to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Trumans Water. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 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 The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Gichy Dan,
Swell Maps,
MC5,
Funkadelic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Zeros,
Marvin Gaye,
Amon Düül II,
The Durutti Column,
Audionom,
Wings,
Sandy B,
Faraquet,
Harmonia,
Panda Bear,
Cymande,
Sight & Sound,
Gabor Szabo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Zero Boys,
Lower 48,
Monolake,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mars,
Dennis Brown,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Angels of Light,
Henry Cow,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fugs,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Count Five,
Letta Mbulu,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric Copeland,
The Gladiators,
Motorama,
The Electric Prunes,
The Motions,
Lightning Bolt,
Bobby Sherman,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Pop Group,
The Trojans,
ABC,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jimmy McGriff,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brick,
Cameo,
The Index,
DNA,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ten City,
Johnny Osbourne,
Howard Jones,
Thompson Twins,
Pussy Galore,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.