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 New Zealand and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes 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 Country Teasers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultravox,
Barrington Levy,
Sixth Finger,
Janne Schatter,
Jesper Dahlback,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Young Rascals,
Roger Hodgson,
Godley & Creme,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mars,
Underground Resistance,
Chris Corsano,
Kas Product,
X-102,
the Normal,
Scion,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Dead C,
Agent Orange,
FM Einheit,
Magma,
Jawbox,
Delta 5,
Whodini,
Desert Stars,
Model 500,
Eric Copeland,
H. Thieme,
Steve Hackett,
The Saints,
Alphaville,
Man Parrish,
Ludus,
Ronnie Foster,
Rotary Connection,
Danielle Patucci,
Sonic Youth,
Bootsy Collins,
Wally Richardson,
The Remains,
Gregory Isaacs,
Spandau Ballet,
Saccharine Trust,
Chrome,
Soft Cell,
Lyres,
Basic Channel,
Lightning Bolt,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Human League,
Cameo,
Eric Dolphy,
Rapeman,
Cheater Slicks,
The Cure,
Mark Hollis,
Brothers Johnson,
Half Japanese,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.