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 South Africa and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Searchers to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Niagra,
The Dirtbombs,
Los Fastidios,
The Names,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Angry Samoans,
Black Flag,
The Happenings,
The Fortunes,
Eric Dolphy,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Womack,
Vladislav Delay,
The Music Machine,
Circle Jerks,
The Selecter,
Skriet,
Jacob Miller,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Black Dice,
The Motions,
Ronnie Foster,
Siglo XX,
Pagans,
The Vogues,
Fluxion,
Tomorrow,
the Association,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Von Mondo,
Hot Snakes,
Pussy Galore,
Unwound,
The Beau Brummels,
Bush Tetras,
The Litter,
Colin Newman,
Eden Ahbez,
Peter & Gordon,
Yazoo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lightning Bolt,
Lungfish,
Barbara Tucker,
Oblivians,
OOIOO,
Icehouse,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anakelly,
Quantec,
Lucky Dragons,
Qualms,
Zero Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bluetip,
Todd Terry,
Bauhaus,
This Heat,
Amazonics,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dark Day,
Judy Mowatt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.