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 Turkmenistan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tears for Fears to the rap 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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Average White Band,
Ultravox,
Au Pairs,
KRS-One,
Bang On A Can,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Letta Mbulu,
Jesper Dahlback,
Minnie Riperton,
Smog,
The Kinks,
Harmonia,
Newcleus,
Ornette Coleman,
Alphaville,
Can,
Jawbox,
The Slackers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mad Mike,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Move,
Rod Modell,
Eric B and Rakim,
FM Einheit,
The Blues Magoos,
Banda Bassotti,
Graham Central Station,
Cluster,
Ludus,
Roy Ayers,
AZ,
the Human League,
Buzzcocks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Make Up,
John Lydon,
Lakeside,
Silicon Teens,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Minor Threat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
June Days,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Moleskins,
The Fuzztones,
Wings,
Fear,
The Toasters,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultra Naté,
the Germs,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pere Ubu,
The Dead C,
Bill Wells,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ossler,
Scrapy,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.