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 Nigeria and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba 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 The Litter to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Busters,
Ultravox,
Tears for Fears,
Susan Cadogan,
Alice Coltrane,
Lucky Dragons,
Supertramp,
Eric Copeland,
Simply Red,
Gil Scott Heron,
X-101,
Byron Stingily,
Reagan Youth,
Roy Ayers,
John Holt,
Max Romeo,
The Litter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ronan,
The Raincoats,
Fad Gadget,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pantytec,
Black Bananas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pierre Henry,
The Slackers,
Television Personalities,
Young Marble Giants,
Cameo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bauhaus,
H. Thieme,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arthur Verocai,
Ituana,
Wally Richardson,
Lightning Bolt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deadbeat,
E-Dancer,
Fear,
Lebanon Hanover,
Talk Talk,
The Vogues,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sonic Youth,
Junior Murvin,
Desert Stars,
Von Mondo,
Saccharine Trust,
Camouflage,
New Order,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Chris & Cosey,
Terrestrial Tones,
JFA,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.