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 Mauritania and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar 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 Con Funk Shun to the grunge 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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Procol Harum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
The Dirtbombs,
Dave Gahan,
The Divine Comedy,
The Techniques,
H. Thieme,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mo-Dettes,
Warren Ellis,
Brick,
Al Stewart,
Make Up,
Wings,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Robert Wyatt,
Sexual Harrassment,
June of 44,
Das Ding,
The Kinks,
U.S. Maple,
The Blackbyrds,
Visage,
Heaven 17,
Cybotron,
Moebius,
Pantytec,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Soul Sonic Force,
Maurizio,
The Golliwogs,
Y Pants,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tubeway Army,
DNA,
Massinfluence,
Freddie Wadling,
John Coltrane,
Radio Birdman,
Amon Düül II,
The Mummies,
Sällskapet,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skarface,
Brothers Johnson,
Parry Music,
Radiohead,
Deakin,
the Swans,
Pierre Henry,
Nik Kershaw,
Dead Boys,
Intrusion,
Siglo XX,
Thee Headcoats,
Television Personalities,
Loose Ends,
Kayak,
Gichy Dan,
Infiniti,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Half Japanese,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.