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 Ukraine and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Panda Bear to the crunk 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Supertramp,
Electric Prunes,
Mission of Burma,
Lightning Bolt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Idris Muhammad,
Eve St. Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Piero Umiliani,
The Cowsills,
Nick Fraelich,
In Retrospect,
Franke,
Erasure,
Jeff Lynne,
Cameo,
Radio Birdman,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Symarip,
ABBA,
Black Moon,
Jandek,
The Gories,
Wings,
The Remains,
The Mojo Men,
a-ha,
Throbbing Gristle,
Moebius,
Dawn Penn,
Connie Case,
Tropical Tobacco,
La Düsseldorf,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Barbara Tucker,
Con Funk Shun,
Yaz,
Shuggie Otis,
Letta Mbulu,
F. McDonald,
Index,
Trumans Water,
Fela Kuti,
Skaos,
The Trojans,
Sparks,
James White and The Blacks,
The Seeds,
The Raincoats,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Soul II Soul,
Metal Thangz,
Colin Newman,
The Standells,
Gang Starr,
Delta 5,
The Neon Judgement,
Popol Vuh,
Soul Sonic Force,
Stetsasonic,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.