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 Ivory Coast and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe 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 Dave Clark Five to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Selecter,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tears for Fears,
Drexciya,
Barry Ungar,
Wings,
Arab on Radar,
Harmonia,
Crispy Ambulance,
Simply Red,
Sex Pistols,
Khruangbin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Roy Ayers,
Blake Baxter,
Hardrive,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Searchers,
Fatback Band,
Boogie Down Productions,
Saccharine Trust,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Soul II Soul,
Sun Ra,
Nik Kershaw,
John Cale,
The Vogues,
Fad Gadget,
A Certain Ratio,
The Monochrome Set,
The New Christs,
Tommy Roe,
Scrapy,
Gang Green,
Charles Mingus,
The Martian,
Amon Düül II,
Suburban Knight,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
June of 44,
Lakeside,
OOIOO,
Monks,
Hashim,
Surgeon,
Deepchord,
the Human League,
Ponytail,
The Golliwogs,
Danielle Patucci,
Josef K,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Index,
John Coltrane,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Electric Prunes,
Bauhaus,
kango's stein massive,
Don Cherry,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.