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 Cyprus and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Mumbai and Bremen.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Associates record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Aaron Thompson,
Heaven 17,
Pagans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
David Axelrod,
Wings,
Lakeside,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Anthony Braxton,
The Detroit Cobras,
Leonard Cohen,
F. McDonald,
Basic Channel,
Ken Boothe,
Q65,
The Fall,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Blues Magoos,
Con Funk Shun,
Sun City Girls,
Marmalade,
Banda Bassotti,
The Grass Roots,
Hasil Adkins,
James White and The Blacks,
Blossom Toes,
Ohio Players,
Harmonia,
Lalann,
Rekid,
Cymande,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sixth Finger,
Nick Fraelich,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Grauzone,
AZ,
Niagra,
The Wake,
Radio Birdman,
Cameo,
Kenny Larkin,
Barbara Tucker,
Jandek,
Traffic Nightmare,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fortunes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Tremeloes,
Todd Terry,
Pylon,
The Invisible,
Terry Callier,
Joey Negro,
Smog,
Saccharine Trust,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.