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 Equatorial Guinea and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro 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 Charles Mingus to the jazz 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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
KRS-One,
Aaron Thompson,
Crime,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Peter and Kerry,
Joensuu 1685,
F. McDonald,
Suicide,
CMW,
The Saints,
Absolute Body Control,
Hot Snakes,
The Fortunes,
The Human League,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Adolescents,
Suburban Knight,
Tubeway Army,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Evens,
Avey Tare,
Inner City,
Sister Nancy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Sonics,
The Misunderstood,
James White and The Blacks,
Sight & Sound,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kas Product,
Outsiders,
The Doors,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Vogues,
Mad Mike,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dark Day,
Interpol,
Yellowson,
One Last Wish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Girls At Our Best!,
Albert Ayler,
Minor Threat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Byron Stingily,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Amon Düül II,
Public Enemy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Danielle Patucci,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang Green,
Pylon,
Howard Jones,
Cheater Slicks,
Steve Hackett,
The United States of America,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.