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 South Africa and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the rock 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Sex Pistols,
Warren Ellis,
Gerry Rafferty,
Technova,
AZ,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Youth Brigade,
Bootsy Collins,
The Slackers,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Sherman,
Lalann,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Motorama,
Eurythmics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Donald Byrd,
Rekid,
The Offenders,
Kaleidoscope,
Bang On A Can,
T. Rex,
Dennis Brown,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rapeman,
Gabor Szabo,
John Holt,
Blancmange,
Bauhaus,
John Cale,
Sun Ra,
Blossom Toes,
Banda Bassotti,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Metal Thangz,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lyres,
The Techniques,
Gang of Four,
the Bar-Kays,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Howard Jones,
Gregory Isaacs,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Hood,
Chrome,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Slits,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Happenings,
The American Breed,
Robert Görl,
Radiohead,
This Heat,
Accadde A,
Sixth Finger,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.