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 Czech Republic and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 X-102 to the disco 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
MC5,
Altered Images,
Severed Heads,
Marine Girls,
T. Rex,
Minny Pops,
Shoche,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Germs,
Banda Bassotti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Black Dice,
Pylon,
Procol Harum,
Slick Rick,
Dead Boys,
The Names,
Cecil Taylor,
Can,
Slave,
Nick Fraelich,
Marshall Jefferson,
Arthur Verocai,
Jeff Lynne,
Aaron Thompson,
The Leaves,
Joyce Sims,
Bobby Sherman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Popol Vuh,
Moebius,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Smiths,
Urselle,
Deakin,
Judy Mowatt,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ten City,
The Modern Lovers,
a-ha,
The Sonics,
Lucky Dragons,
Swans,
Visage,
Monolake,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Hood,
Kerrie Biddell,
John Holt,
Franke,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pagans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Quando Quango,
Eve St. Jones,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.