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 Chad and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba 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 Godley & Creme to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
The Gladiators,
Robert Wyatt,
Soul II Soul,
Make Up,
Nik Kershaw,
The Angels of Light,
Joyce Sims,
Index,
Visage,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Sonics,
New York Dolls,
the Swans,
Gang of Four,
Hot Snakes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Fluxion,
Pantytec,
The Fire Engines,
The Divine Comedy,
Grey Daturas,
U.S. Maple,
Letta Mbulu,
Eric B and Rakim,
Y Pants,
B.T. Express,
Camouflage,
Anakelly,
Au Pairs,
Interpol,
Scott Walker,
Sugar Minott,
Pulsallama,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Foxx,
Outsiders,
Blossom Toes,
Derrick Morgan,
Bob Dylan,
Vladislav Delay,
FM Einheit,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Index,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Warsaw,
Robert Görl,
The Red Krayola,
T. Rex,
The Names,
Silicon Teens,
The Sound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
kango's stein massive,
The Blues Magoos,
Bauhaus,
The Gap Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ralphi Rosario,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.