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 Bahrain and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Kaleidoscope to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Adolescents,
Interpol,
Fluxion,
The Walker Brothers,
Saccharine Trust,
Babytalk,
Accadde A,
Kurtis Blow,
Pere Ubu,
New York Dolls,
Eric B and Rakim,
This Heat,
Mr. Review,
KRS-One,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eric Dolphy,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobby Sherman,
The Golliwogs,
The Zeros,
The Red Krayola,
Michelle Simonal,
Scientists,
Essential Logic,
B.T. Express,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mars,
James White and The Blacks,
Toni Rubio,
the Soft Cell,
The Trojans,
Peter & Gordon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Ohio Players,
Spandau Ballet,
Popol Vuh,
Grauzone,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Franke,
Moby Grape,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Buckinghams,
Pulsallama,
Nas,
Be Bop Deluxe,
John Coltrane,
The Saints,
Au Pairs,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Q and Not U,
Kerri Chandler,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Qualms,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
John Cale,
U.S. Maple,
Blossom Toes,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.