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 Haiti and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Taipei.
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 harpsichord 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 Deadbeat to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun City Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fugazi,
Jerry's Kids,
Mad Mike,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soul Sonic Force,
KRS-One,
Peter & Gordon,
Max Romeo,
Aloha Tigers,
Slick Rick,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Peter and Kerry,
Henry Cow,
Amon Düül,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Görl,
Godley & Creme,
Kaleidoscope,
Jeru the Damaja,
Accadde A,
Jawbox,
Scion,
Scrapy,
Sex Pistols,
The Doors,
Can,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Adolescents,
Rapeman,
The Misunderstood,
Ken Boothe,
Moss Icon,
Harry Pussy,
Panda Bear,
Matthew Bourne,
Wolf Eyes,
Aaron Thompson,
Procol Harum,
Moebius,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bluetip,
the Soft Cell,
Sixth Finger,
David Bowie,
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Skarface,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bauhaus,
Nick Fraelich,
Letta Mbulu,
Aural Exciters,
Quando Quango,
Barbara Tucker,
Joe Smooth,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.