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 Turkmenistan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Nile Rodgers 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 B.T. Express to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Knickerbockers,
The Dead C,
June Days,
Stiv Bators,
Cybotron,
Toni Rubio,
T.S.O.L.,
Eve St. Jones,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fugazi,
Electric Light Orchestra,
X-102,
Pussy Galore,
Warsaw,
Model 500,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
a-ha,
The Alarm Clocks,
T. Rex,
Make Up,
Cal Tjader,
Sound Behaviour,
Trumans Water,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barry Ungar,
The Invisible,
Ohio Players,
R.M.O.,
Matthew Halsall,
Deadbeat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Groovy Waters,
Scott Walker,
Joyce Sims,
Chris Corsano,
Interpol,
Masters at Work,
Todd Rundgren,
Alice Coltrane,
These Immortal Souls,
A Certain Ratio,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Warren Ellis,
ABC,
Panda Bear,
UT,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Litter,
Jerry Gold Smith,
June of 44,
The Skatalites,
Gabor Szabo,
Grauzone,
Aural Exciters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Niagra,
MDC,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.