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 Uganda and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Henry Cow,
The Misunderstood,
Pylon,
Drexciya,
Inner City,
The Gories,
Kurtis Blow,
Johnny Osbourne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Whodini,
UT,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sonics,
John Coltrane,
Sandy B,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scratch Acid,
Young Marble Giants,
EPMD,
The Happenings,
B.T. Express,
Cameo,
Fela Kuti,
Sällskapet,
Dennis Brown,
Royal Trux,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Wally Richardson,
Visage,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bronski Beat,
The Neon Judgement,
MDC,
Gang Gang Dance,
Aswad,
Zapp,
The Fall,
The Five Americans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camberwell Now,
The Move,
The Cramps,
The Human League,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Procol Harum,
Scientists,
The Slackers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobby Womack,
Don Cherry,
Steve Hackett,
Ponytail,
The Monks,
Thompson Twins,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Trojans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wire,
Frankie Knuckles,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.