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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ultimate Spinach to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pylon,
Delta 5,
The Mojo Men,
Surgeon,
Y Pants,
Simply Red,
Kool Moe Dee,
X-Ray Spex,
Scratch Acid,
Brass Construction,
Marc Almond,
Mars,
The Searchers,
Smog,
Ultimate Spinach,
June Days,
The Music Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Fall,
The Buckinghams,
Funkadelic,
The Electric Prunes,
Supertramp,
Donny Hathaway,
Ten City,
A Certain Ratio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stiv Bators,
Fugazi,
Hasil Adkins,
Roxette,
Albert Ayler,
The Invisible,
Magma,
Yellowson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Monolake,
Pantytec,
Deakin,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Godley & Creme,
Excepter,
Oblivians,
The Residents,
Bill Near,
Kerrie Biddell,
This Heat,
Sonic Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Pop Group,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jandek,
KRS-One,
Au Pairs,
Adolescents,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Velvet Underground,
Frankie Knuckles,
Country Teasers,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kenny Larkin,
Theoretical Girls,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.