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 Lesotho and from Sao Paulo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lindisfarne to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wally Richardson,
Monolake,
Rekid,
Mr. Review,
Susan Cadogan,
The Gun Club,
Gang of Four,
Radio Birdman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joe Smooth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
June Days,
Derrick May,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Knickerbockers,
John Holt,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Angry Samoans,
Cal Tjader,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Los Fastidios,
China Crisis,
Sällskapet,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Red Krayola,
Prince Buster,
Thee Headcoats,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hot Snakes,
10cc,
Fela Kuti,
The Blues Magoos,
H. Thieme,
R.M.O.,
Bizarre Inc.,
Brick,
The Young Rascals,
The Pretty Things,
Barry Ungar,
Adolescents,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Derrick Morgan,
Amon Düül,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Saints,
The Fire Engines,
Panda Bear,
E-Dancer,
Circle Jerks,
Sixth Finger,
A Certain Ratio,
Sarah Menescal,
Neil Young,
PIL,
The Offenders,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.