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 Slovenia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 synthesizer 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 Eric B and Rakim to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap 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 spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
the Sonics,
Surgeon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Monolake,
DJ Sneak,
Dead Boys,
Zero Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Japan,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sonic Youth,
Gerry Rafferty,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Idris Muhammad,
Marine Girls,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cluster,
Desert Stars,
Reagan Youth,
Junior Murvin,
Yaz,
The Music Machine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sixth Finger,
Malaria!,
Tom Boy,
Byron Stingily,
The Fortunes,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Panda Bear,
Tim Buckley,
Crime,
The Dead C,
New York Dolls,
David Bowie,
Erasure,
Marc Almond,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jeff Lynne,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Anthony Braxton,
The Names,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roger Hodgson,
The Litter,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Soft Cell,
Pantytec,
June Days,
The Grass Roots,
Y Pants,
Talk Talk,
Moebius,
Basic Channel,
The American Breed,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.