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 Germany and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Bang On A Can 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All The Alarm Clocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
World's Most,
The Electric Prunes,
David Axelrod,
Kayak,
Brick,
Funkadelic,
Connie Case,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scrapy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ludus,
The Fortunes,
Slave,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rhythm & Sound,
Aloha Tigers,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fall,
the Sonics,
Dave Gahan,
Vainqueur,
The Wake,
Jeff Mills,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang Green,
H. Thieme,
10cc,
Sex Pistols,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joe Smooth,
The Gories,
Sugar Minott,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ituana,
The Real Kids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minutemen,
Sister Nancy,
Thee Headcoats,
Sight & Sound,
Marc Almond,
Altered Images,
Sandy B,
Curtis Mayfield,
Stiv Bators,
The Durutti Column,
KRS-One,
Johnny Clarke,
Clear Light,
The Names,
Mad Mike,
Kas Product,
Ponytail,
F. McDonald,
Black Sheep,
the Germs,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.