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 Liberia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Scrapy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tubeway Army,
Silicon Teens,
Barbara Tucker,
Jacob Miller,
Easy Going,
The Music Machine,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
China Crisis,
Essential Logic,
Mr. Review,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cluster,
Ossler,
Pere Ubu,
Black Moon,
Inner City,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Young Rascals,
Toni Rubio,
Hashim,
A Certain Ratio,
Isaac Hayes,
Qualms,
The Searchers,
Jandek,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nirvana,
Howard Jones,
New Order,
Curtis Mayfield,
Alice Coltrane,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lou Reed,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skaos,
Barrington Levy,
Warren Ellis,
Agitation Free,
Byron Stingily,
T.S.O.L.,
Ken Boothe,
Lungfish,
The Leaves,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Normal,
Ronnie Foster,
Whodini,
Accadde A,
Joyce Sims,
DNA,
Stereo Dub,
Flash Fearless,
Marc Almond,
Carl Craig,
Unwound,
Donny Hathaway,
Organ,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.