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 Chile and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tehran.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marvin Gaye to the rock 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
X-101,
The Skatalites,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Albert Ayler,
Country Teasers,
Black Pus,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ice-T,
Ronan,
Pagans,
The Leaves,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Terry Callier,
Gang Starr,
Gang Gang Dance,
L. Decosne,
Tubeway Army,
Dawn Penn,
Young Marble Giants,
Rekid,
Section 25,
Jacob Miller,
Television Personalities,
Marine Girls,
Tres Demented,
The Happenings,
Eden Ahbez,
Slave,
Todd Rundgren,
the Fania All-Stars,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Warsaw,
Magma,
The Smoke,
Patti Smith,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Television,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Interpol,
Little Man,
Bill Wells,
Half Japanese,
The Modern Lovers,
The Techniques,
Vladislav Delay,
The Last Poets,
Joe Smooth,
Cecil Taylor,
The American Breed,
Agitation Free,
Bobby Sherman,
Max Romeo,
the Sonics,
Hasil Adkins,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ituana,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Loose Ends,
The Knickerbockers,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.