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 Costa Rica and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 The Dead C to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
ABBA,
Soul II Soul,
Lakeside,
Ten City,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minnie Riperton,
Skarface,
D'Angelo,
Swans,
The Gladiators,
The Gap Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Index,
The Modern Lovers,
Duran Duran,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lightning Bolt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jandek,
Barbara Tucker,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ponytail,
Ituana,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Colin Newman,
Ken Boothe,
Iggy Pop,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Selecter,
Reuben Wilson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Moby Grape,
The Flesh Eaters,
Matthew Bourne,
kango's stein massive,
The Sonics,
Yellowson,
Tommy Roe,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sonic Youth,
Unwound,
Sister Nancy,
Franke,
The Move,
Sällskapet,
Nico,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Jacob Miller,
Camberwell Now,
Byron Stingily,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Soft Cell,
Eden Ahbez,
Nils Olav,
Fluxion,
Eve St. Jones,
Joy Division,
Laurel Aitken,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.