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 Oman and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ 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 Bauhaus to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Thee Headcoats,
Crispy Ambulance,
Y Pants,
The Young Rascals,
Japan,
The Slits,
Angry Samoans,
Accadde A,
Judy Mowatt,
H. Thieme,
Chrome,
Delta 5,
Magma,
Sandy B,
Porter Ricks,
La Düsseldorf,
Jacques Brel,
The Fuzztones,
Nick Fraelich,
Crispian St. Peters,
Skriet,
The Mojo Men,
The Motions,
Ken Boothe,
Boredoms,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tears for Fears,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Selecter,
Sam Rivers,
Trumans Water,
Jeru the Damaja,
Urselle,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gabor Szabo,
Donald Byrd,
The Flesh Eaters,
Robert Görl,
Ludus,
Gang Green,
LL Cool J,
Los Fastidios,
E-Dancer,
U.S. Maple,
Janne Schatter,
ABBA,
The Wake,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eve St. Jones,
Slave,
The Dirtbombs,
Model 500,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Fear,
The Fortunes,
The Evens,
Anthony Braxton,
Vainqueur,
Joy Division,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.