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 Zimbabwe and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 spring reverb 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain to the grime 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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
X-101,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fugs,
Brand Nubian,
New Order,
Kaleidoscope,
The Happenings,
Hasil Adkins,
Scratch Acid,
Section 25,
Saccharine Trust,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Judy Mowatt,
Josef K,
The Searchers,
Eddi Front,
Marvin Gaye,
Rosa Yemen,
Spoonie Gee,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Funky Four + One,
The Invisible,
Gichy Dan,
Chris Corsano,
The New Christs,
B.T. Express,
Tres Demented,
Lindisfarne,
The Smiths,
Soft Cell,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DNA,
Essential Logic,
Vainqueur,
The Associates,
Terry Callier,
June Days,
Roy Ayers,
The Kinks,
Joyce Sims,
Andrew Hill,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gong,
Bob Dylan,
Alton Ellis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tommy Roe,
Nils Olav,
Ronnie Foster,
48th St. Collective,
Arab on Radar,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sparks,
Eve St. Jones,
The Wake,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Ituana,
Tom Boy,
The Modern Lovers,
Porter Ricks,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.