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 South Africa and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Donald Fagen 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 Circle Jerks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Max Romeo,
KRS-One,
Goldenarms,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Boz Scaggs,
Arthur Verocai,
The Blackbyrds,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
MDC,
Jacques Brel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sarah Menescal,
Half Japanese,
Avey Tare,
Essential Logic,
Camouflage,
The Monochrome Set,
Ken Boothe,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
X-101,
Stetsasonic,
Ituana,
Bootsy Collins,
Bush Tetras,
Ultravox,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Barrington Levy,
The Fall,
The Neon Judgement,
Youth Brigade,
The Move,
The Knickerbockers,
Crash Course in Science,
Marvin Gaye,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Grauzone,
Loose Ends,
Angry Samoans,
The Tremeloes,
Laurel Aitken,
Accadde A,
Piero Umiliani,
Young Marble Giants,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Matthew Bourne,
Big Daddy Kane,
Animal Collective,
Carl Craig,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Radiohead,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fat Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hashim,
K-Klass,
James White and The Blacks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.