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 Korea North and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 guitar 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Piero Umiliani,
Jimmy McGriff,
Malaria!,
James White and The Blacks,
Minnie Riperton,
The Sisters of Mercy,
This Heat,
Ralphi Rosario,
Clear Light,
Mr. Review,
Wings,
MC5,
Bobby Womack,
Arthur Verocai,
Howard Jones,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Slits,
Joy Division,
Susan Cadogan,
Spandau Ballet,
Trumans Water,
Desert Stars,
Delta 5,
Alison Limerick,
Tim Buckley,
Symarip,
Severed Heads,
Con Funk Shun,
The Red Krayola,
Slave,
Joe Smooth,
Wolf Eyes,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Move,
The Kinks,
John Cale,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
Blake Baxter,
Soul II Soul,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
DJ Style,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dave Gahan,
Skaos,
T.S.O.L.,
Television Personalities,
Sun City Girls,
Lindisfarne,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fatback Band,
Bronski Beat,
Circle Jerks,
Gang Starr,
The Busters,
kango's stein massive,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Flag,
R.M.O.,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.