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 Liechtenstein and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Holger Czukay 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 Banda Bassotti to the rock 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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Babytalk,
Lalann,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Guru Guru,
Rod Modell,
Joe Finger,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Newcleus,
John Coltrane,
Silicon Teens,
Bronski Beat,
Yaz,
Bush Tetras,
Maleditus Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
Electric Prunes,
Radiohead,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eddi Front,
Kurtis Blow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Move,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Raincoats,
Organ,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Alison Limerick,
Make Up,
The Standells,
The Durutti Column,
Sun City Girls,
Jeru the Damaja,
E-Dancer,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare,
Scrapy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
T.S.O.L.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Talk Talk,
Arab on Radar,
Franke,
Kerrie Biddell,
Supertramp,
Camouflage,
Kaleidoscope,
The Count Five,
Steve Hackett,
Aural Exciters,
The Motions,
Darondo,
Man Parrish,
Sexual Harrassment,
Skarface,
The Tremeloes,
Sister Nancy,
The Last Poets,
Moby Grape,
Trumans Water,
Black Flag,
Rapeman,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.