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 Marshall Islands and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Eric B and Rakim to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sight & Sound,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rosa Yemen,
Harmonia,
Clear Light,
Aural Exciters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Yazoo,
Buzzcocks,
Livin' Joy,
Yusef Lateef,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fad Gadget,
Barry Ungar,
Bill Wells,
The Gun Club,
Blancmange,
Los Fastidios,
Talk Talk,
Shoche,
Minny Pops,
Tubeway Army,
Jacob Miller,
The Litter,
the Bar-Kays,
Alison Limerick,
The Evens,
Symarip,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Slits,
Wally Richardson,
Silicon Teens,
Angry Samoans,
Alphaville,
Reuben Wilson,
The United States of America,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Motorama,
The Beau Brummels,
Nils Olav,
The Neon Judgement,
The Slits,
Television Personalities,
Pierre Henry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Magma,
Infiniti,
A Certain Ratio,
June Days,
Youth Brigade,
The Kinks,
Bootsy Collins,
John Foxx,
ABC,
The Selecter,
L. Decosne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.