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 Cape Verde and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar 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 U.S. Maple to the grime 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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 Smoke,
Andrew Hill,
Television,
Babytalk,
Barclay James Harvest,
Duran Duran,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rapeman,
Guru Guru,
U.S. Maple,
Spandau Ballet,
The Walker Brothers,
Tubeway Army,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Stockholm Monsters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blancmange,
Drexciya,
John Lydon,
D'Angelo,
Q65,
The Last Poets,
The Monochrome Set,
The Pretty Things,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nas,
Rakim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Reuben Wilson,
Mr. Review,
A Certain Ratio,
Qualms,
Danielle Patucci,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Soft Cell,
Blossom Toes,
Yaz,
Ossler,
Interpol,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gong,
World's Most,
The Gories,
The Cowsills,
Crispian St. Peters,
Neil Young,
Juan Atkins,
Suburban Knight,
Wasted Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Half Japanese,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bootsy Collins,
Parry Music,
The Fuzztones,
Unrelated Segments,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Knickerbockers,
Toni Rubio,
ABBA,
Goldenarms,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.