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 Malawi and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marcia Griffiths to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Trojans,
The Barracudas,
Delta 5,
Ituana,
Pussy Galore,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Morten Harket,
Pierre Henry,
Thee Headcoats,
K-Klass,
The Electric Prunes,
Crooked Eye,
Fela Kuti,
Gong,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lungfish,
Malaria!,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Doors,
the Association,
Lou Reed,
ABBA,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Matthew Bourne,
Easy Going,
Marc Almond,
The Cramps,
Pulsallama,
Kurtis Blow,
Main Source,
The Monks,
John Cale,
A Certain Ratio,
Reagan Youth,
kango's stein massive,
cv313,
The Young Rascals,
The Zeros,
Technova,
Khruangbin,
Ronan,
MDC,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mission of Burma,
DNA,
The Moleskins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tres Demented,
Stetsasonic,
Camouflage,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rufus Thomas,
Buzzcocks,
Clear Light,
the Germs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
David Bowie,
R.M.O.,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.