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 Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Robert Palmer 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the rap 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Victims,
Das Ding,
Tears for Fears,
Soft Cell,
Laurel Aitken,
Jawbox,
Bootsy Collins,
The Modern Lovers,
The Leaves,
Robert Hood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Severed Heads,
Jandek,
Eric Copeland,
The Litter,
Ornette Coleman,
Minnie Riperton,
L. Decosne,
Parry Music,
Tommy Roe,
The Music Machine,
The Wake,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Lydon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Slackers,
Groovy Waters,
Inner City,
John Coltrane,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tres Demented,
The Flesh Eaters,
DJ Sneak,
Ultra Naté,
Guru Guru,
The Tremeloes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Monks,
Roxette,
The Real Kids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Matthew Halsall,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Oblivians,
Matthew Bourne,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott Heron,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bill Wells,
Pierre Henry,
The Moleskins,
Isaac Hayes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pharoah Sanders,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.