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 Netherlands and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
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 oboe 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 The Flesh Eaters to the electroclash 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Marc Almond,
The Divine Comedy,
The Misunderstood,
Ossler,
Derrick Morgan,
the Swans,
Groovy Waters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Bananas,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang of Four,
Harmonia,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
MDC,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Wake,
The Cowsills,
The Remains,
Excepter,
Rakim,
Tears for Fears,
Faraquet,
Rhythm & Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Johnny Osbourne,
Erykah Badu,
Scion,
Boz Scaggs,
This Heat,
The Young Rascals,
Goldenarms,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Freddie Wadling,
Oneida,
Barbara Tucker,
Soft Cell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cybotron,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Black Sheep,
Altered Images,
Motorama,
Donny Hathaway,
Whodini,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tim Buckley,
Kayak,
The American Breed,
Yellowson,
Jacob Miller,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sällskapet,
Bronski Beat,
Junior Murvin,
Arab on Radar,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.