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 United Kingdom and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mexico City.
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 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 Fatback Band to the funk 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Skarface,
The Fall,
F. McDonald,
The Litter,
Procol Harum,
The Pop Group,
Todd Terry,
Colin Newman,
Adolescents,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lakeside,
H. Thieme,
The Gun Club,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cramps,
Barry Ungar,
Slick Rick,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Reuben Wilson,
Rekid,
Neil Young,
Nik Kershaw,
Infiniti,
Nils Olav,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Dead C,
Sällskapet,
Warsaw,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yaz,
Aswad,
Crime,
Guru Guru,
The Moody Blues,
The Searchers,
Pere Ubu,
Wire,
Tres Demented,
Little Man,
Fear,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The New Christs,
U.S. Maple,
Royal Trux,
UT,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Coltrane,
Sun City Girls,
Amazonics,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pussy Galore,
Dead Boys,
Massinfluence,
Pierre Henry,
Funky Four + One,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Brick,
Bad Manners,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mr. Review,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.