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 Philippines and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 Pulsallama to the rap 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Motorama,
Lee Hazlewood,
10cc,
The Grass Roots,
The Smiths,
Angry Samoans,
Quadrant,
Pantaleimon,
Colin Newman,
Negative Approach,
Mr. Review,
Magma,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pussy Galore,
X-101,
Flash Fearless,
Kool Moe Dee,
Talk Talk,
Oneida,
MC5,
Arthur Verocai,
Bush Tetras,
Rites of Spring,
Rod Modell,
Mad Mike,
Todd Terry,
The Red Krayola,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Minutemen,
The Techniques,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Slits,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rufus Thomas,
Joyce Sims,
The Residents,
DNA,
Matthew Halsall,
Theoretical Girls,
Albert Ayler,
Mo-Dettes,
K-Klass,
Parry Music,
Roxy Music,
Buzzcocks,
The Fugs,
Alphaville,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Grandmaster Flash,
EPMD,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Country Teasers,
Jandek,
The Evens,
Eric Copeland,
the Human League,
Idris Muhammad,
Bobby Sherman,
Tom Boy,
Fad Gadget,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.