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 Liechtenstein and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the crunk 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Leonard Cohen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
kango's stein massive,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scientists,
Gang of Four,
London Community Gospel Choir,
X-Ray Spex,
The Buckinghams,
Subhumans,
Symarip,
Suicide,
Maurizio,
Television Personalities,
Don Cherry,
Faraquet,
Visage,
Moebius,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bad Manners,
The Moody Blues,
H. Thieme,
Scott Walker,
The Kinks,
The Shadows of Knight,
Massinfluence,
Oneida,
Cymande,
Neu!,
Drexciya,
Curtis Mayfield,
Warren Ellis,
Alison Limerick,
Newcleus,
Marshall Jefferson,
Agitation Free,
The Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Can,
Infiniti,
Max Romeo,
Wire,
Talk Talk,
Royal Trux,
The Sonics,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dead Boys,
Brand Nubian,
Godley & Creme,
Parry Music,
The Remains,
Section 25,
Smog,
Dual Sessions,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roger Hodgson,
The Zeros,
Carl Craig,
Metal Thangz,
The American Breed,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.