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 Ireland and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
Tubeway Army,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Sonics,
Warsaw,
Lou Christie,
Colin Newman,
Japan,
The Five Americans,
The Remains,
Banda Bassotti,
K-Klass,
Barbara Tucker,
The Durutti Column,
Fear,
L. Decosne,
Black Pus,
CMW,
Ultravox,
The Birthday Party,
Basic Channel,
Suburban Knight,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marc Almond,
Desert Stars,
Graham Central Station,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Slackers,
Faust,
The Dirtbombs,
Spoonie Gee,
The Seeds,
F. McDonald,
Siglo XX,
Moss Icon,
In Retrospect,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Das Ding,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Neu!,
Lyres,
Arcadia,
Rufus Thomas,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sun Ra,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deadbeat,
Blossom Toes,
Amon Düül,
Dave Gahan,
Nirvana,
Soul II Soul,
the Association,
Surgeon,
T. Rex,
E-Dancer,
Robert Görl,
The Fire Engines,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hoover,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.