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 Ethiopia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gang Gang Dance to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Godley & Creme,
Camberwell Now,
Joe Smooth,
Steve Hackett,
Flamin' Groovies,
Johnny Clarke,
Jerry's Kids,
T. Rex,
Thompson Twins,
Icehouse,
Swell Maps,
The Gap Band,
Erasure,
UT,
Letta Mbulu,
Slick Rick,
Harry Pussy,
Motorama,
Kerri Chandler,
Model 500,
Amon Düül,
Man Parrish,
Fad Gadget,
Camouflage,
Maleditus Sound,
Stiv Bators,
Soft Cell,
Grey Daturas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
New York Dolls,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pagans,
Radiohead,
Isaac Hayes,
Gang of Four,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Foxx,
Lyres,
R.M.O.,
Morten Harket,
Soft Machine,
Echospace,
The Red Krayola,
Marc Almond,
The Fall,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Urselle,
The Human League,
Lalann,
Niagra,
Underground Resistance,
Essential Logic,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pantaleimon,
Symarip,
Tim Buckley,
Japan,
Peter & Gordon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.