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 Kosovo and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin 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 The Gladiators to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Procol Harum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rufus Thomas,
The Moody Blues,
Nick Fraelich,
Liliput,
The Wake,
X-102,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Pus,
Jeru the Damaja,
Warsaw,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sun City Girls,
Dawn Penn,
Public Enemy,
Second Layer,
Blancmange,
Bad Manners,
The Gap Band,
The Cramps,
The Fuzztones,
Tears for Fears,
One Last Wish,
Magma,
Subhumans,
These Immortal Souls,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Human League,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Cowsills,
The American Breed,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mantronix,
Hot Snakes,
Depeche Mode,
Henry Cow,
Nico,
DNA,
Pere Ubu,
Whodini,
Brass Construction,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Minny Pops,
The Fire Engines,
Girls At Our Best!,
Zapp,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fugs,
Ohio Players,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bill Near,
The Fall,
EPMD,
the Germs,
Fugazi,
Lindisfarne,
Isaac Hayes,
Jeff Mills,
Swell Maps,
The Skatalites,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.