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 Armenia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Slackers to the crunk 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Nick Fraelich,
Yazoo,
Sex Pistols,
The Real Kids,
Swell Maps,
Soft Machine,
Depeche Mode,
The Shadows of Knight,
Intrusion,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Raincoats,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nation of Ulysses,
Barclay James Harvest,
Moby Grape,
Mars,
EPMD,
Terry Callier,
Hot Snakes,
Patti Smith,
Lindisfarne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bob Dylan,
The Fugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Five Americans,
Scrapy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Hood,
Echospace,
Liliput,
Dave Gahan,
Amon Düül,
The Trojans,
World's Most,
Jawbox,
X-101,
Jeff Lynne,
Schoolly D,
Gong,
Royal Trux,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Toasters,
The Velvet Underground,
DJ Sneak,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Litter,
The Remains,
Todd Rundgren,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pharoah Sanders,
Slick Rick,
Pere Ubu,
Guru Guru,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tres Demented,
Todd Terry,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.