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 St Lucia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Oblivians to the grunge 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Sun City Girls,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Soft Machine,
The Motions,
Accadde A,
Bad Manners,
The Techniques,
10cc,
The Toasters,
John Foxx,
The Busters,
Piero Umiliani,
The Electric Prunes,
The Five Americans,
Colin Newman,
The American Breed,
Wings,
Gabor Szabo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Underground Resistance,
Gichy Dan,
Ultravox,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The J.B.'s,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Curtis Mayfield,
Moebius,
Godley & Creme,
EPMD,
The Music Machine,
World's Most,
Deadbeat,
Suburban Knight,
Soul II Soul,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tomorrow,
Agent Orange,
Neu!,
Animal Collective,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brick,
Tres Demented,
the Bar-Kays,
Mr. Review,
Inner City,
Adolescents,
Mo-Dettes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fire Engines,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gladiators,
Lebanon Hanover,
Shoche,
The Flesh Eaters,
Junior Murvin,
Laurel Aitken,
The Birthday Party,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.