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 Bhutan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
The Young Rascals,
Fugazi,
A Certain Ratio,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Wake,
Scientists,
Rekid,
the Bar-Kays,
Lou Reed,
Gastr Del Sol,
Donald Byrd,
Spoonie Gee,
Suburban Knight,
Soul II Soul,
The Leaves,
Jimmy McGriff,
Graham Central Station,
Marc Almond,
Harry Pussy,
K-Klass,
Jerry's Kids,
EPMD,
The Walker Brothers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Johnny Osbourne,
Black Pus,
Audionom,
Magazine,
Au Pairs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lou Christie,
Whodini,
Rapeman,
The Smiths,
Ludus,
Amon Düül II,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
T. Rex,
AZ,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Eric Dolphy,
Max Romeo,
Gang Starr,
Intrusion,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cameo,
Monks,
Loose Ends,
Blake Baxter,
Lebanon Hanover,
New York Dolls,
ABC,
Camberwell Now,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Sherman,
Soft Machine,
The Gap Band,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.