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 New Zealand and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Velvet Underground to the grunge 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
Bauhaus,
Black Bananas,
kango's stein massive,
Hasil Adkins,
The Remains,
Technova,
Roxy Music,
Juan Atkins,
Yaz,
Joensuu 1685,
KRS-One,
Oneida,
Tres Demented,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric Dolphy,
Radiopuhelimet,
E-Dancer,
The Invisible,
Delon & Dalcan,
Unrelated Segments,
Babytalk,
Danielle Patucci,
Y Pants,
Rosa Yemen,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fire Engines,
The American Breed,
Morten Harket,
Marvin Gaye,
The Smiths,
Ronnie Foster,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mark Hollis,
The Real Kids,
Dark Day,
Supertramp,
The Standells,
Bill Near,
The Durutti Column,
The United States of America,
Kurtis Blow,
Oblivians,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sound Behaviour,
Moss Icon,
X-Ray Spex,
Banda Bassotti,
Tubeway Army,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultimate Spinach,
Terrestrial Tones,
FM Einheit,
Aswad,
Shoche,
Blake Baxter,
Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless, Flash Fearless.
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.