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 Micronesia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin 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 The Skatalites 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Derrick Morgan,
Camberwell Now,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Surgeon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thee Headcoats,
Joe Smooth,
In Retrospect,
DJ Sneak,
X-Ray Spex,
Duran Duran,
Make Up,
John Lydon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fortunes,
Main Source,
Tropical Tobacco,
June Days,
Maurizio,
Soft Cell,
Nils Olav,
The Blues Magoos,
Magazine,
Chrome,
Bad Manners,
Al Stewart,
Supertramp,
Morten Harket,
X-102,
DJ Style,
Deakin,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Max Romeo,
Derrick May,
Barclay James Harvest,
Blossom Toes,
The Happenings,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Music Machine,
Harry Pussy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Tremeloes,
The Evens,
Don Cherry,
Soulsonic Force,
Nas,
Man Parrish,
L. Decosne,
Wasted Youth,
Piero Umiliani,
Unwound,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ultra Naté,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gang Green,
Lyres,
Das Ding,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bang On A Can,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.