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 Nepal and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 rhodes 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 Intrusion to the punk 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gap Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Throbbing Gristle,
Big Daddy Kane,
The American Breed,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Qualms,
Lightning Bolt,
The Monks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rufus Thomas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Flash Fearless,
Monks,
Graham Central Station,
Japan,
the Human League,
Niagra,
Suicide,
Derrick Morgan,
Infiniti,
A Certain Ratio,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
The Music Machine,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Five Americans,
Grey Daturas,
Intrusion,
John Foxx,
These Immortal Souls,
Agent Orange,
Aural Exciters,
Black Moon,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jeru the Damaja,
Can,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Freddie Wadling,
The Tremeloes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Los Fastidios,
Steve Hackett,
The Pretty Things,
Heaven 17,
Lakeside,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tomorrow,
Gang Green,
Radiopuhelimet,
Amon Düül II,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Offenders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Arcadia,
Rod Modell,
Moby Grape,
China Crisis,
Jacques Brel,
Kas Product,
Rotary Connection,
Bobby Womack,
Josef K,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.