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 Slovenia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Slick Rick to the dance 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 Gichy Dan. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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 Count Five,
Sixth Finger,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rakim,
Negative Approach,
Lower 48,
The Gap Band,
Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Real Kids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Scan 7,
Jeff Lynne,
Thompson Twins,
Isaac Hayes,
F. McDonald,
Black Pus,
Peter & Gordon,
Section 25,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sandy B,
Rhythm & Sound,
Agitation Free,
Bad Manners,
Neu!,
The Smoke,
The Moody Blues,
Mars,
ABC,
The Moleskins,
Buzzcocks,
The Standells,
Bob Dylan,
The Blues Magoos,
Mo-Dettes,
The Leaves,
Scrapy,
The Angels of Light,
Lebanon Hanover,
Alton Ellis,
Slave,
FM Einheit,
The Grass Roots,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Move,
Jacques Brel,
X-Ray Spex,
Moebius,
Boredoms,
Yellowson,
Howard Jones,
Albert Ayler,
The Wake,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Raincoats,
The Dead C,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
cv313,
Barry Ungar,
Joyce Sims,
The Star Department,
Godley & Creme,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.