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 Congo and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Steve Hackett to the rap 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dave Gahan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eddi Front,
Johnny Clarke,
The Red Krayola,
John Foxx,
Idris Muhammad,
Bob Dylan,
The Moody Blues,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cybotron,
Bronski Beat,
Guru Guru,
The Sonics,
Pole,
The Black Dice,
The Saints,
Scott Walker,
The Selecter,
Piero Umiliani,
World's Most,
The Knickerbockers,
Gichy Dan,
Make Up,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Qualms,
Pantaleimon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Average White Band,
Anakelly,
Avey Tare,
Bobby Byrd,
Scrapy,
DNA,
Angry Samoans,
Mad Mike,
Youth Brigade,
B.T. Express,
Rakim,
Neil Young,
Faust,
Glenn Branca,
Alton Ellis,
Donald Byrd,
Man Parrish,
Robert Görl,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Accadde A,
Theoretical Girls,
Vladislav Delay,
Animal Collective,
Quantec,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Buzzcocks,
Skriet,
Marine Girls,
The Smoke,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.