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 Eritrea and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
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 spring reverb 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 Das Ding to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Swell Maps 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 güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Germs,
Zapp,
Fugazi,
Monks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Morten Harket,
The American Breed,
Al Stewart,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Shoche,
The Buckinghams,
Youth Brigade,
Schoolly D,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ituana,
Harry Pussy,
Pulsallama,
kango's stein massive,
Rapeman,
Franke,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mad Mike,
U.S. Maple,
Erasure,
Pantytec,
Brick,
X-Ray Spex,
B.T. Express,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cramps,
The Saints,
Bang On A Can,
K-Klass,
Supertramp,
Oneida,
Deakin,
The Monks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Little Man,
Bobby Womack,
Silicon Teens,
Visage,
Jeff Lynne,
Mary Jane Girls,
L. Decosne,
Von Mondo,
The Techniques,
Simply Red,
Aaron Thompson,
Fad Gadget,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Connie Case,
Negative Approach,
The Doors,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jacob Miller,
Quando Quango,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.