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 Canada and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Lou Reed 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 Lou Reed to the crunk 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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe 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 organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
48th St. Collective,
Arcadia,
Gabor Szabo,
H. Thieme,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Erykah Badu,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fatback Band,
The Sonics,
The Associates,
ABC,
Nas,
The Vogues,
Tommy Roe,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fuzztones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Gil Scott Heron,
T. Rex,
Lou Christie,
DJ Style,
Television Personalities,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joe Smooth,
Black Moon,
The Blues Magoos,
It's A Beautiful Day,
AZ,
Connie Case,
Donny Hathaway,
Fluxion,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gang of Four,
Talk Talk,
The Black Dice,
La Düsseldorf,
Aural Exciters,
The Names,
B.T. Express,
Iggy Pop,
Tres Demented,
Morten Harket,
Dead Boys,
LL Cool J,
Eric Copeland,
Ronnie Foster,
Todd Terry,
Deepchord,
The Skatalites,
Darondo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Duran Duran,
Eli Mardock,
Simply Red,
Eyeless In Gaza,
X-Ray Spex,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.