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 Ukraine and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Parry Music to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Basic Channel,
Los Fastidios,
Danielle Patucci,
The Dead C,
Roxette,
Sexual Harrassment,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
This Heat,
June of 44,
Buzzcocks,
Franke,
Pantaleimon,
D'Angelo,
Leonard Cohen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Q65,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lou Christie,
Dual Sessions,
The Knickerbockers,
David Bowie,
John Holt,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Goldenarms,
the Slits,
Blancmange,
Joey Negro,
Cal Tjader,
MDC,
New Order,
The Tremeloes,
Duran Duran,
A Certain Ratio,
The Beau Brummels,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sex Pistols,
Neil Young,
R.M.O.,
The Saints,
Nation of Ulysses,
Matthew Bourne,
Carl Craig,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Excepter,
Tom Boy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Johnny Osbourne,
Shuggie Otis,
Judy Mowatt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Human League,
Andrew Hill,
The Misunderstood,
Angry Samoans,
Bauhaus,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.