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 Afghanistan and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Barrington Levy to the crunk 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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Isaac Hayes,
Jacques Brel,
Prince Buster,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Monochrome Set,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Blackbyrds,
The Angels of Light,
Excepter,
The Count Five,
Byron Stingily,
Iggy Pop,
The Gladiators,
Tim Buckley,
Tears for Fears,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Urselle,
The Knickerbockers,
Scan 7,
Second Layer,
The Grass Roots,
Roxy Music,
Aswad,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Shadows of Knight,
Country Teasers,
the Swans,
The Music Machine,
Steve Hackett,
Skriet,
X-102,
X-Ray Spex,
James White and The Blacks,
Thompson Twins,
Matthew Bourne,
Clear Light,
Blancmange,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
MDC,
The Motions,
Hot Snakes,
Johnny Osbourne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jacob Miller,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Erykah Badu,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blues Magoos,
The Names,
Black Bananas,
The Fortunes,
Kurtis Blow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Malaria!,
The Moody Blues,
Kaleidoscope,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.