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 Maldives and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 UT to the rock 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure 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 clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ludus,
Sam Rivers,
Radio Birdman,
The Dead C,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Grass Roots,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Franke,
Sun City Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
The Slackers,
The Gun Club,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Victims,
Theoretical Girls,
Bauhaus,
Judy Mowatt,
Little Man,
Morten Harket,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Names,
Barrington Levy,
AZ,
Crash Course in Science,
The Electric Prunes,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultra Naté,
Soul Sonic Force,
Neu!,
The Offenders,
Aloha Tigers,
Oneida,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sonics,
Nation of Ulysses,
UT,
Shuggie Otis,
Inner City,
Reuben Wilson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Boz Scaggs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Matthew Bourne,
A Certain Ratio,
Interpol,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blossom Toes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Neil Young,
Aswad,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
David McCallum,
8 Eyed Spy,
Colin Newman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Moebius,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.