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 France and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes 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 Last Poets to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Bob Dylan,
Icehouse,
Gastr Del Sol,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Max Romeo,
Gang of Four,
Agent Orange,
Soft Cell,
The Pretty Things,
In Retrospect,
Organ,
Rotary Connection,
Pagans,
Pierre Henry,
Sparks,
Blossom Toes,
JFA,
The Litter,
Joyce Sims,
Adolescents,
Hot Snakes,
Essential Logic,
Funkadelic,
Rekid,
Johnny Clarke,
Rufus Thomas,
The Remains,
Wolf Eyes,
The Star Department,
Camberwell Now,
Thompson Twins,
Circle Jerks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scott Walker,
Darondo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Supertramp,
The Real Kids,
Minny Pops,
LL Cool J,
Harry Pussy,
Intrusion,
Boogie Down Productions,
Blake Baxter,
Flamin' Groovies,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bauhaus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Fortunes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Das Ding,
Lou Christie,
Peter and Kerry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Thee Headcoats,
Interpol,
Scrapy,
The Beau Brummels,
The Birthday Party,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.