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 Montenegro and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Frankie Knuckles to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Popol Vuh,
Babytalk,
Intrusion,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Prince Buster,
Fear,
Alison Limerick,
D'Angelo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jacques Brel,
Boz Scaggs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Visage,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sister Nancy,
Wasted Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Groovy Waters,
Unrelated Segments,
The Doors,
DJ Style,
Gerry Rafferty,
The J.B.'s,
Livin' Joy,
Trumans Water,
Rod Modell,
Chrome,
Blancmange,
David Axelrod,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Associates,
The Cowsills,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hoover,
Alphaville,
Dead Boys,
Gong,
Vladislav Delay,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Quantec,
Aloha Tigers,
Deepchord,
Loose Ends,
Colin Newman,
ABC,
Yellowson,
Mission of Burma,
Wally Richardson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fugazi,
Inner City,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kas Product,
The Walker Brothers,
Amon Düül,
Fad Gadget,
One Last Wish,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.