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 Brazil and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the punk 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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All The Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
The Evens,
The Saints,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bill Wells,
Brass Construction,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Michelle Simonal,
Traffic Nightmare,
Erykah Badu,
Charles Mingus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sex Pistols,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Godley & Creme,
Country Teasers,
Trumans Water,
Rod Modell,
Nirvana,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Yaz,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gang Starr,
Pussy Galore,
The Invisible,
Mars,
Radio Birdman,
Das Ding,
The Cowsills,
Man Parrish,
Arab on Radar,
La Düsseldorf,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harmonia,
Moebius,
The Fuzztones,
Radiohead,
New Order,
Mad Mike,
Eden Ahbez,
Laurel Aitken,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
China Crisis,
The Walker Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Lungfish,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Masters at Work,
John Lydon,
The Cure,
The Neon Judgement,
Agitation Free,
Chris Corsano,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Monks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Amazonics,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.