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 Somalia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Charles Mingus,
Freddie Wadling,
Sun City Girls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Smoke,
Michelle Simonal,
Marvin Gaye,
Fluxion,
The Dirtbombs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Misunderstood,
Dark Day,
Ossler,
Wasted Youth,
The Vogues,
Tears for Fears,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cybotron,
Carl Craig,
Lucky Dragons,
Susan Cadogan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Moon,
Whodini,
The Standells,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Swans,
Spoonie Gee,
Gang of Four,
The Sonics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
China Crisis,
Harmonia,
Procol Harum,
Silicon Teens,
Scott Walker,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bauhaus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Fania All-Stars,
A Certain Ratio,
Absolute Body Control,
Camberwell Now,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gil Scott Heron,
Angry Samoans,
Arab on Radar,
Unwound,
Smog,
Blancmange,
Panda Bear,
Scrapy,
Suicide,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dead Boys,
Graham Central Station,
Desert Stars,
Saccharine Trust,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.