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 the UAE and from Calgary.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Cairo.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bobby Womack to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Clear Light,
Pole,
Inner City,
Godley & Creme,
Ken Boothe,
Gichy Dan,
Laurel Aitken,
The Cowsills,
Arab on Radar,
Masters at Work,
Jeff Lynne,
The Neon Judgement,
Eric Copeland,
Second Layer,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Byron Stingily,
The Velvet Underground,
Urselle,
Trumans Water,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joy Division,
X-102,
OOIOO,
Black Bananas,
Delon & Dalcan,
Alton Ellis,
Barrington Levy,
Joe Smooth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Grandmaster Flash,
Girls At Our Best!,
Darondo,
John Foxx,
EPMD,
Camouflage,
Sister Nancy,
Hoover,
Country Teasers,
Chris Corsano,
Buzzcocks,
Simply Red,
Popol Vuh,
D'Angelo,
Porter Ricks,
New York Dolls,
Rites of Spring,
Pantaleimon,
Morten Harket,
Patti Smith,
the Normal,
Vladislav Delay,
Cymande,
Wire,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.