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 Somalia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Darondo to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Motorama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Urselle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Jeff Lynne,
Brass Construction,
Urselle,
Kayak,
Blancmange,
Panda Bear,
The Slackers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Echospace,
Goldenarms,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang of Four,
Funky Four + One,
R.M.O.,
Guru Guru,
Junior Murvin,
James White and The Blacks,
Surgeon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hasil Adkins,
June of 44,
Radio Birdman,
The Pretty Things,
Fela Kuti,
Minny Pops,
Depeche Mode,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ohio Players,
Wasted Youth,
Eddi Front,
Freddie Wadling,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Green,
Eden Ahbez,
Mr. Review,
The Standells,
John Holt,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry's Kids,
Deakin,
The Skatalites,
The Victims,
Joyce Sims,
Niagra,
Popol Vuh,
John Cale,
Faraquet,
Basic Channel,
Sex Pistols,
The Smiths,
Graham Central Station,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Busters,
The Dead C,
The Count Five,
Jacob Miller,
Anakelly,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.