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 Zambia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet 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 Dawn Penn to the crunk 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All The Velvet Underground tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Terry Callier,
The Electric Prunes,
Radio Birdman,
Swans,
Marvin Gaye,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sonics,
Arab on Radar,
Saccharine Trust,
Whodini,
The Red Krayola,
CMW,
Model 500,
Skarface,
the Soft Cell,
Todd Rundgren,
Tommy Roe,
Crispian St. Peters,
Wally Richardson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
B.T. Express,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tom Boy,
Ronnie Foster,
E-Dancer,
The Dead C,
Ornette Coleman,
Cluster,
Blancmange,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Associates,
Magma,
Michelle Simonal,
Reagan Youth,
Underground Resistance,
Rosa Yemen,
Joensuu 1685,
Aswad,
June of 44,
Bronski Beat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Seeds,
Faust,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soft Cell,
Echospace,
Organ,
Deepchord,
Judy Mowatt,
Amazonics,
Pulsallama,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Toasters,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.