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 Andorra and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 808 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Symarip 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 dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Deepchord,
Deadbeat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fuzztones,
Moby Grape,
The Happenings,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amon Düül,
The Offenders,
Slave,
Interpol,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Dirtbombs,
Peter & Gordon,
Pierre Henry,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Groovy Waters,
The Motions,
New Order,
The Pop Group,
Barclay James Harvest,
Duran Duran,
The Five Americans,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ultra Naté,
Dennis Brown,
Bang On A Can,
Derrick Morgan,
Radiohead,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Banda Bassotti,
Clear Light,
Lalann,
Pere Ubu,
the Bar-Kays,
Ice-T,
The Beau Brummels,
Los Fastidios,
The Fire Engines,
the Swans,
Howard Jones,
The Dead C,
Prince Buster,
Gang of Four,
Susan Cadogan,
Drexciya,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Outsiders,
DJ Sneak,
Agent Orange,
Desert Stars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Black Sheep,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eurythmics,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.