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 Latvia 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 F. McDonald to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Derrick May. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Neu!,
Black Sheep,
Barbara Tucker,
Metal Thangz,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brand Nubian,
The Cure,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Severed Heads,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Deadbeat,
Donald Byrd,
The Monks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sixth Finger,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
This Heat,
the Swans,
Agitation Free,
Junior Murvin,
Frankie Knuckles,
Skaos,
Swell Maps,
Monks,
Judy Mowatt,
Minny Pops,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Alison Limerick,
Flipper,
Niagra,
Buzzcocks,
Unrelated Segments,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rosa Yemen,
The Gladiators,
Bang On A Can,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Organ,
The Dead C,
Surgeon,
kango's stein massive,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Easy Going,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mars,
Wally Richardson,
The Dirtbombs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tommy Roe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lou Reed,
David Bowie,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Roxy Music,
Robert Wyatt,
Simply Red,
Stockholm Monsters,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.