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 Equatorial Guinea and from Jakarta.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Knickerbockers to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Silicon Teens,
Fat Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Leonard Cohen,
Make Up,
Lucky Dragons,
The Saints,
Joey Negro,
One Last Wish,
The Barracudas,
Scion,
Black Flag,
Monolake,
Reagan Youth,
Tom Boy,
Alice Coltrane,
Angry Samoans,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Aloha Tigers,
F. McDonald,
Liliput,
The Gap Band,
The New Christs,
Q65,
Icehouse,
The Smiths,
Fugazi,
Soft Cell,
Public Image Ltd.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Camouflage,
Clear Light,
Peter & Gordon,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Real Kids,
Animal Collective,
Kool Moe Dee,
Franke,
The Fugs,
Bronski Beat,
Ultra Naté,
Alison Limerick,
Rites of Spring,
Blossom Toes,
The Invisible,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
June Days,
ABBA,
the Soft Cell,
Ronnie Foster,
Mark Hollis,
John Lydon,
Grey Daturas,
The Divine Comedy,
Harry Pussy,
Chrome,
Janne Schatter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Outsiders,
MDC,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.