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 Canada and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angry Samoans to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
ABBA,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Flag,
Yazoo,
Matthew Bourne,
Piero Umiliani,
Todd Rundgren,
Maurizio,
Rites of Spring,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Agitation Free,
the Normal,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Niagra,
the Human League,
The Shadows of Knight,
Monks,
Bang On A Can,
Kerri Chandler,
The Wake,
ABC,
New Order,
The Smiths,
Shoche,
Eric Copeland,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fuzztones,
Gichy Dan,
The Litter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Vladislav Delay,
Magma,
The Standells,
Lebanon Hanover,
Max Romeo,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobby Sherman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bobby Byrd,
Wings,
Angry Samoans,
The Flesh Eaters,
Loose Ends,
Terry Callier,
Soulsonic Force,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mr. Review,
The Searchers,
Chris & Cosey,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultra Naté,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Blossom Toes,
The Sound,
Guru Guru,
The Gladiators,
The Fugs,
Aswad,
Lakeside,
Pole,
The Neon Judgement,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.