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 East Timor and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Lalo Schifrin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camouflage,
Bobby Sherman,
Camberwell Now,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Techniques,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pylon,
Neu!,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Urselle,
Connie Case,
DJ Sneak,
Bauhaus,
Deadbeat,
Easy Going,
F. McDonald,
Inner City,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Derrick May,
Don Cherry,
Wolf Eyes,
Boredoms,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cure,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobbi Humphrey,
This Heat,
Arcadia,
The American Breed,
Andrew Hill,
Hot Snakes,
Bad Manners,
Byron Stingily,
Sixth Finger,
Pere Ubu,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Germs,
Godley & Creme,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Yaz,
The Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Kaleidoscope,
Alphaville,
Kool Moe Dee,
Los Fastidios,
The Raincoats,
Altered Images,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pussy Galore,
The Flesh Eaters,
Simply Red,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skarface,
John Foxx,
The Invisible,
The Fuzztones,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.