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 Slovakia and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Remains to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Interpol,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bush Tetras,
Q65,
Parry Music,
John Cale,
The Fortunes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rapeman,
The Cure,
The Index,
Scrapy,
Dennis Brown,
Bob Dylan,
Stetsasonic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Urselle,
Steve Hackett,
Q and Not U,
Al Stewart,
Gang Green,
T. Rex,
New Order,
The Human League,
Infiniti,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultra Naté,
Moby Grape,
Make Up,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
DJ Style,
The Selecter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grauzone,
New York Dolls,
the Swans,
Eddi Front,
The Busters,
Young Marble Giants,
Joe Smooth,
Sandy B,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Popol Vuh,
Judy Mowatt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kaleidoscope,
John Foxx,
Girls At Our Best!,
Colin Newman,
David McCallum,
Wings,
Nation of Ulysses,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Trojans,
Matthew Bourne,
Crash Course in Science,
Kenny Larkin,
Angry Samoans,
Pagans,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.