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 Brazil and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Slackers to the jazz 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Erykah Badu,
Shoche,
Barrington Levy,
Toni Rubio,
Johnny Clarke,
cv313,
Albert Ayler,
Popol Vuh,
Terrestrial Tones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Evens,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Can,
Malaria!,
B.T. Express,
Man Parrish,
Marmalade,
Minny Pops,
Glenn Branca,
Dennis Brown,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ralphi Rosario,
Absolute Body Control,
L. Decosne,
Reagan Youth,
Josef K,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
a-ha,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Theoretical Girls,
E-Dancer,
Mandrill,
D'Angelo,
Eurythmics,
Jimmy McGriff,
Roger Hodgson,
Maleditus Sound,
Alton Ellis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jawbox,
Colin Newman,
The Smoke,
The Doors,
The Martian,
Rakim,
Sugar Minott,
Jerry's Kids,
Eden Ahbez,
Bill Wells,
48th St. Collective,
Jacob Miller,
the Normal,
The Last Poets,
Loose Ends,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Zeros,
The Red Krayola,
Gichy Dan,
The Smiths,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.