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 Netherlands and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
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 sitar 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 Sexual Harrassment to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Flamin' Groovies,
Minutemen,
Slick Rick,
June of 44,
Amon Düül,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Associates,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The J.B.'s,
Vainqueur,
Television Personalities,
Sarah Menescal,
Lou Christie,
Aswad,
Motorama,
Junior Murvin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Siglo XX,
The Angels of Light,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Accadde A,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Hoover,
Black Moon,
Oneida,
Los Fastidios,
The Modern Lovers,
DNA,
New York Dolls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dennis Brown,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Wake,
Althea and Donna,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Amazonics,
Audionom,
Kerrie Biddell,
Royal Trux,
Cluster,
Rod Modell,
Moby Grape,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultravox,
Grauzone,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fear,
Rapeman,
Spoonie Gee,
The Vogues,
Ronnie Foster,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pole,
Peter and Kerry,
The Stooges,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Fuzztones,
Juan Atkins,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.