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 Sri Lanka and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator 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 The Electric Prunes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Brothers Johnson,
the Germs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Graham Central Station,
cv313,
Pylon,
Motorama,
Black Pus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Yaz,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marvin Gaye,
Matthew Bourne,
James White and The Blacks,
New Age Steppers,
The Cowsills,
Ronan,
Crooked Eye,
Public Enemy,
The Last Poets,
Man Parrish,
The Move,
Lee Hazlewood,
Groovy Waters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
John Cale,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Isaac Hayes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Christie,
Soft Cell,
Duran Duran,
Tubeway Army,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joey Negro,
The Red Krayola,
The Electric Prunes,
Hoover,
Harmonia,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minutemen,
Byron Stingily,
Barry Ungar,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-101,
The Gladiators,
Flipper,
Soft Machine,
Mad Mike,
The Pop Group,
Second Layer,
Blake Baxter,
Ossler,
KRS-One,
Index,
Marine Girls,
Nico,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.