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 Azerbaijan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Clear Light 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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
Pantytec,
Rod Modell,
Roxy Music,
K-Klass,
Barrington Levy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Pus,
The Beau Brummels,
Kevin Saunderson,
China Crisis,
Technova,
the Bar-Kays,
Loose Ends,
D'Angelo,
Robert Görl,
Cheater Slicks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bush Tetras,
Gregory Isaacs,
Donny Hathaway,
Joey Negro,
Easy Going,
UT,
Malaria!,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terry Callier,
Siglo XX,
Black Flag,
The Blues Magoos,
Maleditus Sound,
The Barracudas,
Barclay James Harvest,
T. Rex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roy Ayers,
Minutemen,
JFA,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Knickerbockers,
Man Parrish,
Rakim,
Jawbox,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Misunderstood,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Masters at Work,
Kas Product,
Bill Near,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fat Boys,
Sonic Youth,
The Cure,
The Cowsills,
Bob Dylan,
Depeche Mode,
Dead Boys,
The Fuzztones,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.