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 Mozambique and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Ice-T to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fear 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Michelle Simonal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
The American Breed,
X-101,
Whodini,
Little Man,
Archie Shepp,
The Dirtbombs,
Altered Images,
CMW,
Faraquet,
Sex Pistols,
The Misunderstood,
Sonic Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
Bobby Byrd,
The Sound,
Soft Cell,
Sun Ra,
The Invisible,
Aswad,
Flamin' Groovies,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Anthony Braxton,
Dawn Penn,
Robert Hood,
Organ,
Alice Coltrane,
Ossler,
The Velvet Underground,
The Birthday Party,
Fear,
Can,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
cv313,
The Smoke,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
In Retrospect,
48th St. Collective,
Livin' Joy,
World's Most,
The Durutti Column,
The Toasters,
Harry Pussy,
Stiv Bators,
Hashim,
Sandy B,
Eric Copeland,
Stetsasonic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
the Fania All-Stars,
Yellowson,
Funky Four + One,
Barrington Levy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sexual Harrassment,
Warren Ellis,
Max Romeo,
Ultravox,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Five Americans,
Glenn Branca,
Donny Hathaway,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nico,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.