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 Nicaragua and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Leonard Cohen to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Misunderstood,
The Pop Group,
The Cowsills,
Davy DMX,
Agent Orange,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacob Miller,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Echospace,
Black Moon,
L. Decosne,
Pole,
Mark Hollis,
Michelle Simonal,
The Martian,
The Neon Judgement,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang Gang Dance,
New Order,
Can,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Durutti Column,
D'Angelo,
Jawbox,
The Cure,
The Star Department,
Aswad,
The American Breed,
Smog,
Underground Resistance,
Ponytail,
John Coltrane,
Index,
Andrew Hill,
Robert Hood,
Camberwell Now,
The Seeds,
Von Mondo,
Hashim,
E-Dancer,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Japan,
Pantaleimon,
Maurizio,
Hasil Adkins,
Dark Day,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Foxx,
Black Flag,
The J.B.'s,
Max Romeo,
Aloha Tigers,
Freddie Wadling,
Todd Rundgren,
Fat Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
The Barracudas,
Banda Bassotti,
Glambeats Corp.,
Average White Band,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.