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 Iran and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 Edmonton and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Zero Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alton Ellis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sarah Menescal,
Brothers Johnson,
Cybotron,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Index,
Delta 5,
Average White Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Simply Red,
Can,
UT,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Glenn Branca,
Gichy Dan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Moon,
The Remains,
Ossler,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grauzone,
Desert Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Electric Light Orchestra,
R.M.O.,
Icehouse,
Yusef Lateef,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Wake,
Joyce Sims,
The Velvet Underground,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joy Division,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Harry Pussy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Steve Hackett,
Erasure,
Bluetip,
Pierre Henry,
Mad Mike,
Black Sheep,
Amazonics,
Motorama,
Vladislav Delay,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Names,
DNA,
Ultravox,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Anakelly,
Juan Atkins,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Suicide,
Eli Mardock,
Cecil Taylor,
The Detroit Cobras,
Make Up,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.