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 San Marino and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kerrie Biddell to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Public Image Ltd.,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Slits,
The Dirtbombs,
Infiniti,
Prince Buster,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Martian,
Khruangbin,
The Golliwogs,
Altered Images,
Boz Scaggs,
The Cramps,
Skarface,
Basic Channel,
Scratch Acid,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Detroit Cobras,
Peter & Gordon,
U.S. Maple,
Circle Jerks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Faust,
Eurythmics,
Pussy Galore,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
Rapeman,
Desert Stars,
Albert Ayler,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Skatalites,
Andrew Hill,
Grandmaster Flash,
Royal Trux,
The Fugs,
Aloha Tigers,
The Vogues,
Drive Like Jehu,
Heaven 17,
Eden Ahbez,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ponytail,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
F. McDonald,
T.S.O.L.,
Fear,
Youth Brigade,
Mo-Dettes,
Brothers Johnson,
Soulsonic Force,
Simply Red,
Gastr Del Sol,
Livin' Joy,
Deakin,
Q and Not U,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.