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 Maldives and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Donald Fagen 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 Make Up to the electroclash 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 China Crisis. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Fad Gadget,
The Remains,
Clear Light,
Eddi Front,
Yellowson,
Radio Birdman,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fat Boys,
Duran Duran,
Excepter,
Audionom,
Moebius,
June of 44,
Donald Byrd,
Marc Almond,
Main Source,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-102,
Cecil Taylor,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mr. Review,
The Raincoats,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Zero Boys,
Dead Boys,
Q and Not U,
F. McDonald,
Aaron Thompson,
Negative Approach,
Eli Mardock,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fortunes,
H. Thieme,
The Vogues,
Barry Ungar,
Erykah Badu,
Ponytail,
Roger Hodgson,
Section 25,
Banda Bassotti,
DJ Sneak,
Juan Atkins,
Bush Tetras,
Prince Buster,
Neil Young,
Vainqueur,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Cowsills,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Moby Grape,
The Toasters,
Chris Corsano,
The Kinks,
Oneida,
Lucky Dragons,
Visage,
Sound Behaviour,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.