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 Papua New Guinea and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Smoke to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
The Misunderstood,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Franke,
Harmonia,
The American Breed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eurythmics,
X-Ray Spex,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rapeman,
Parry Music,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
JFA,
Peter & Gordon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
DNA,
Buzzcocks,
The Grass Roots,
Maurizio,
Maleditus Sound,
Al Stewart,
Hasil Adkins,
Heaven 17,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Blues Magoos,
Angry Samoans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Deepchord,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dual Sessions,
Lungfish,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Carl Craig,
Radiopuhelimet,
Reagan Youth,
Metal Thangz,
Oblivians,
Arab on Radar,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Tremeloes,
Altered Images,
Flamin' Groovies,
Avey Tare,
Motorama,
Rakim,
Alison Limerick,
Rites of Spring,
Matthew Halsall,
Lou Christie,
Eric Dolphy,
Tommy Roe,
Robert Wyatt,
Unrelated Segments,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Unwound,
Zapp,
The Velvet Underground,
Roger Hodgson,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.