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 Suriname and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 Peter & Gordon to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Detroit Cobras,
Aaron Thompson,
Al Stewart,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lindisfarne,
Tommy Roe,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Buckinghams,
Harmonia,
The Cowsills,
The Cramps,
Piero Umiliani,
Rotary Connection,
Nirvana,
Rakim,
Bill Wells,
ABC,
Monolake,
Eric B and Rakim,
Glambeats Corp.,
Guru Guru,
D'Angelo,
New Order,
kango's stein massive,
Johnny Osbourne,
Rapeman,
The Moleskins,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Magma,
Faust,
Wally Richardson,
The Angels of Light,
The Move,
June of 44,
the Normal,
Jawbox,
EPMD,
Buzzcocks,
Nico,
Sexual Harrassment,
Unrelated Segments,
Panda Bear,
Agitation Free,
This Heat,
Dave Gahan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lyres,
Das Ding,
Judy Mowatt,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gong,
JFA,
the Association,
Blake Baxter,
The Leaves,
Eurythmics,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mad Mike,
The Dirtbombs,
Kurtis Blow,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.