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 Venezuela and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet 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 Tropical Tobacco to the rap 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 Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Faust,
Surgeon,
Fela Kuti,
Pet Shop Boys,
48th St. Collective,
The Five Americans,
Oblivians,
Scan 7,
James White and The Blacks,
The Index,
Pussy Galore,
The Grass Roots,
Fugazi,
Porter Ricks,
Big Daddy Kane,
MDC,
Bobby Sherman,
Tres Demented,
The Gories,
Todd Terry,
Lindisfarne,
Brothers Johnson,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Radiohead,
Rapeman,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wings,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Aaron Thompson,
The Offenders,
Lalann,
Royal Trux,
Section 25,
The Residents,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mary Jane Girls,
Circle Jerks,
Clear Light,
Ituana,
Minny Pops,
Rosa Yemen,
Mantronix,
Howard Jones,
Los Fastidios,
Mars,
The Smiths,
Theoretical Girls,
Organ,
The Gap Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Normal,
The Names,
Toni Rubio,
The Vogues,
Donny Hathaway,
Eden Ahbez,
Q and Not U,
Jeff Mills,
Suburban Knight,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.