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 Barbados and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Porter Ricks to the jazz 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
X-102,
The Gladiators,
Thompson Twins,
New York Dolls,
Goldenarms,
Sandy B,
Gang Starr,
Godley & Creme,
Judy Mowatt,
Pylon,
The Victims,
Piero Umiliani,
Marcia Griffiths,
The J.B.'s,
Al Stewart,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Neil Young,
Smog,
Man Parrish,
The Blackbyrds,
The Tremeloes,
Anakelly,
Theoretical Girls,
John Cale,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mars,
Boz Scaggs,
The Index,
Ultra Naté,
PIL,
Harmonia,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mandrill,
The Moody Blues,
LL Cool J,
Quantec,
Nirvana,
Eve St. Jones,
The Skatalites,
Parry Music,
Mo-Dettes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Malaria!,
Iggy Pop,
Delon & Dalcan,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Moby Grape,
Tears for Fears,
Intrusion,
T. Rex,
John Coltrane,
Massinfluence,
Eddi Front,
Little Man,
Minutemen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Minny Pops,
the Association,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.