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 South Sudan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ 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 Fela Kuti to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Mark Hollis,
Rapeman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Crime,
Rod Modell,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Surgeon,
The Moody Blues,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boredoms,
The Raincoats,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Charles Mingus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Country Teasers,
Joe Finger,
Jacques Brel,
Unrelated Segments,
Pussy Galore,
Terrestrial Tones,
UT,
The Seeds,
Wally Richardson,
Camberwell Now,
Ronan,
Faust,
Brick,
Ice-T,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lightning Bolt,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Silicon Teens,
The New Christs,
Black Pus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Germs,
Iggy Pop,
Ornette Coleman,
Robert Wyatt,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Fortunes,
Sam Rivers,
Mad Mike,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tears for Fears,
Minor Threat,
Oblivians,
Agent Orange,
Easy Going,
Au Pairs,
The Red Krayola,
Bronski Beat,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.