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 Brunei and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Electric Prunes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Altered Images,
Minutemen,
Minor Threat,
Flipper,
David Axelrod,
The Mummies,
Michelle Simonal,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
John Foxx,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fela Kuti,
Rosa Yemen,
Scrapy,
Terry Callier,
the Soft Cell,
Hot Snakes,
The Index,
Japan,
The Fire Engines,
X-102,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Red Krayola,
Gregory Isaacs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kenny Larkin,
Crash Course in Science,
Robert Hood,
Agent Orange,
kango's stein massive,
Brand Nubian,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ten City,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Knickerbockers,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Neon Judgement,
Dark Day,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nirvana,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
DJ Sneak,
Eric Dolphy,
a-ha,
OOIOO,
Dennis Brown,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Royal Trux,
Darondo,
Harry Pussy,
Howard Jones,
JFA,
Nik Kershaw,
Spandau Ballet,
The Doors,
Arab on Radar,
The Litter,
Glambeats Corp.,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ronan,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.