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 East Timor and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Graham Central Station to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Talk Talk,
Black Moon,
Swans,
Skriet,
The Selecter,
Harry Pussy,
Minutemen,
Nico,
Chrome,
Half Japanese,
Circle Jerks,
Pantaleimon,
Sparks,
Soft Machine,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-101,
Suburban Knight,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camberwell Now,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cecil Taylor,
The Neon Judgement,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Vainqueur,
The Searchers,
Wally Richardson,
Joey Negro,
The Skatalites,
The Velvet Underground,
The Fortunes,
Symarip,
The Gun Club,
Tears for Fears,
Unwound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pole,
Funkadelic,
Al Stewart,
The Star Department,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ituana,
Bill Wells,
Warsaw,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Crooked Eye,
This Heat,
Cal Tjader,
The Buckinghams,
Von Mondo,
Laurel Aitken,
Visage,
The Count Five,
Janne Schatter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Young Marble Giants,
Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans, Angry Samoans.
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.