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 Niger and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron 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 Dirtbombs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Pet Shop Boys,
These Immortal Souls,
The Techniques,
Lakeside,
The Grass Roots,
Dual Sessions,
Audionom,
Robert Wyatt,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gichy Dan,
X-101,
Little Man,
Country Teasers,
ABBA,
Tears for Fears,
Duran Duran,
The Slits,
Rekid,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sixth Finger,
The Beau Brummels,
Michelle Simonal,
Wasted Youth,
The Moody Blues,
The Red Krayola,
Barry Ungar,
Girls At Our Best!,
This Heat,
The Seeds,
Loose Ends,
Archie Shepp,
Suicide,
Infiniti,
Ronan,
Darondo,
World's Most,
John Holt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Depeche Mode,
Bobby Byrd,
Althea and Donna,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fire Engines,
the Bar-Kays,
Isaac Hayes,
48th St. Collective,
Nas,
EPMD,
The Monks,
The Dirtbombs,
Guru Guru,
Bill Wells,
Charles Mingus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sun City Girls,
Graham Central Station,
Masters at Work,
Bill Near,
the Normal,
Jacques Brel,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.