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 Nepal and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Cosmic Jokers to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pharoah Sanders. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
U.S. Maple,
48th St. Collective,
Saccharine Trust,
Piero Umiliani,
The Slits,
Shoche,
Letta Mbulu,
June Days,
Marcia Griffiths,
Can,
Lebanon Hanover,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Make Up,
Stetsasonic,
Faust,
Bobby Womack,
Simply Red,
Harpers Bizarre,
Brand Nubian,
Lee Hazlewood,
ABC,
Robert Görl,
Matthew Halsall,
Arthur Verocai,
Scan 7,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jerry's Kids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joey Negro,
Sixth Finger,
Mantronix,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Victims,
The Grass Roots,
Lalo Schifrin,
Michelle Simonal,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gories,
The Trojans,
The Fortunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cramps,
The Invisible,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tommy Roe,
Spandau Ballet,
Pantaleimon,
the Normal,
Nils Olav,
Faraquet,
The Standells,
Rites of Spring,
Joy Division,
The Litter,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.