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 Czech Republic and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Harpers Bizarre to the electroclash 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Mars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Darondo,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
UT,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eden Ahbez,
The New Christs,
Cymande,
Masters at Work,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Knickerbockers,
Slick Rick,
Tim Buckley,
Ronnie Foster,
Judy Mowatt,
Joe Smooth,
Ten City,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Sound,
The Leaves,
Theoretical Girls,
Ronan,
Kurtis Blow,
Eddi Front,
Amon Düül,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Babytalk,
Johnny Osbourne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ultimate Spinach,
Severed Heads,
The Smoke,
Rekid,
Sonic Youth,
The Victims,
Gang of Four,
The Busters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Don Cherry,
Technova,
Aaron Thompson,
The Motions,
Massinfluence,
Leonard Cohen,
The Barracudas,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nico,
Stockholm Monsters,
Agent Orange,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Erasure,
Mo-Dettes,
Reuben Wilson,
Neil Young,
Depeche Mode,
Rapeman,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Remains,
B.T. Express,
Gichy Dan,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.