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 Liechtenstein and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ralphi Rosario to the punk 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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All T. Rex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
The Fortunes,
Piero Umiliani,
Suburban Knight,
Monolake,
Roy Ayers,
Marshall Jefferson,
Don Cherry,
Bootsy Collins,
Popol Vuh,
Soft Cell,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Unrelated Segments,
Visage,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
K-Klass,
Grandmaster Flash,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soulsonic Force,
Livin' Joy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
CMW,
R.M.O.,
Gong,
Bobby Byrd,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Blackbyrds,
The Trojans,
The Pop Group,
Barbara Tucker,
Essential Logic,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
These Immortal Souls,
Scott Walker,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tropical Tobacco,
Thee Headcoats,
The Sound,
The Motions,
Letta Mbulu,
Brick,
The Mojo Men,
Gregory Isaacs,
Siglo XX,
Khruangbin,
The Monks,
Zapp,
The Raincoats,
Erasure,
Rosa Yemen,
Shuggie Otis,
Quadrant,
Ice-T,
Mandrill,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Von Mondo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Anakelly,
Henry Cow,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.