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 Seychelles and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Black Sheep to the disco 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Yusef Lateef,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Moody Blues,
Angry Samoans,
Reuben Wilson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Pus,
The Gories,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
John Coltrane,
Minny Pops,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
June Days,
Robert Wyatt,
Porter Ricks,
The Pretty Things,
Los Fastidios,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Associates,
The American Breed,
Traffic Nightmare,
E-Dancer,
F. McDonald,
Roy Ayers,
the Sonics,
Pagans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tropical Tobacco,
Clear Light,
Danielle Patucci,
Michelle Simonal,
Yaz,
The Dead C,
Fatback Band,
The Music Machine,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Byron Stingily,
Sonic Youth,
Dawn Penn,
EPMD,
The Mummies,
Soft Machine,
Alison Limerick,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Count Five,
The Cramps,
Organ,
Smog,
The Invisible,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dirtbombs,
LL Cool J,
Theoretical Girls,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.