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 Argentina and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Paris.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Tubeway Army,
Kenny Larkin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lindisfarne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Slick Rick,
Fatback Band,
Piero Umiliani,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Buzzcocks,
The Moleskins,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Human League,
In Retrospect,
The Grass Roots,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang of Four,
Circle Jerks,
KRS-One,
David Bowie,
Absolute Body Control,
Bob Dylan,
Talk Talk,
Funkadelic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
David Axelrod,
Lou Reed,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Starr,
Mark Hollis,
Crooked Eye,
Marine Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
OOIOO,
Bill Wells,
A Certain Ratio,
Gong,
Marcia Griffiths,
Aaron Thompson,
Gabor Szabo,
Blancmange,
Groovy Waters,
Audionom,
Hot Snakes,
Todd Rundgren,
Metal Thangz,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Yellowson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roxy Music,
Lebanon Hanover,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Five Americans,
Khruangbin,
The Happenings,
Amon Düül,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.