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 Estonia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the grime 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Dead Boys,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Jawbox,
The Busters,
Gang Starr,
Second Layer,
Y Pants,
Brothers Johnson,
Public Enemy,
The American Breed,
Kerrie Biddell,
Banda Bassotti,
Joyce Sims,
Lungfish,
Boredoms,
John Lydon,
Mr. Review,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Trojans,
Suicide,
Steve Hackett,
The Smiths,
Inner City,
The Red Krayola,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Avey Tare,
Mo-Dettes,
Joey Negro,
DNA,
Zapp,
Wally Richardson,
The Toasters,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gun Club,
Severed Heads,
Johnny Clarke,
Byron Stingily,
FM Einheit,
The Shadows of Knight,
Maurizio,
Harpers Bizarre,
Marmalade,
Cybotron,
Barrington Levy,
Leonard Cohen,
Don Cherry,
Fad Gadget,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Altered Images,
Minutemen,
Intrusion,
Ice-T,
Ken Boothe,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gastr Del Sol,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ronnie Foster,
The Victims,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.