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 Oman and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the rock 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 Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Cameo,
FM Einheit,
Silicon Teens,
Marc Almond,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hot Snakes,
Prince Buster,
The Leaves,
David Bowie,
Altered Images,
Jeff Mills,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tropical Tobacco,
Archie Shepp,
Boz Scaggs,
Bauhaus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mo-Dettes,
The Busters,
Soul Sonic Force,
K-Klass,
Dead Boys,
The Saints,
Bush Tetras,
The Techniques,
Jawbox,
Masters at Work,
Visage,
Soft Machine,
One Last Wish,
Main Source,
Matthew Halsall,
Slave,
Scion,
Patti Smith,
Ken Boothe,
Audionom,
Japan,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Guru Guru,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cowsills,
The Gladiators,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dave Gahan,
Von Mondo,
Dark Day,
Roger Hodgson,
Amon Düül II,
Section 25,
Roxette,
The Associates,
Charles Mingus,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Trojans,
Idris Muhammad,
Brand Nubian,
Make Up,
Bobby Byrd,
Lyres,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.