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 Monaco and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Make Up to the dance 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Neon Judgement,
Darondo,
The Happenings,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Masters at Work,
The Human League,
The Gladiators,
Barbara Tucker,
China Crisis,
Bootsy Collins,
Black Pus,
Fugazi,
Warsaw,
The Buckinghams,
Flipper,
Grey Daturas,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tommy Roe,
Scion,
Rufus Thomas,
These Immortal Souls,
Swans,
Mo-Dettes,
Soulsonic Force,
Piero Umiliani,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Easy Going,
Maurizio,
Altered Images,
The Dead C,
Judy Mowatt,
Make Up,
Arab on Radar,
Niagra,
Goldenarms,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eden Ahbez,
Althea and Donna,
Pagans,
Minutemen,
Das Ding,
Bang On A Can,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
10cc,
The Sound,
Gastr Del Sol,
Iggy Pop,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Fall,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
JFA,
Janne Schatter,
Brothers Johnson,
Flash Fearless,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.