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 Senegal and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 T. Rex to the crunk 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Cheater Slicks,
Vainqueur,
Spandau Ballet,
Joensuu 1685,
Interpol,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Graham Central Station,
The Vogues,
Niagra,
Chris & Cosey,
Quantec,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roxy Music,
The Five Americans,
The Toasters,
Deadbeat,
Adolescents,
Jerry's Kids,
Soft Cell,
Brothers Johnson,
Dawn Penn,
ABBA,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Flamin' Groovies,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The New Christs,
Aswad,
PIL,
Wolf Eyes,
the Soft Cell,
The Residents,
Simply Red,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Barracudas,
Newcleus,
Half Japanese,
Erasure,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Funkadelic,
Television,
Steve Hackett,
The Star Department,
Rapeman,
Royal Trux,
Eve St. Jones,
Marcia Griffiths,
Carl Craig,
Tim Buckley,
Rufus Thomas,
Jacques Brel,
Kool Moe Dee,
H. Thieme,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Walker Brothers,
Moss Icon,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.