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 Costa Rica and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Girls At Our Best! to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gichy Dan,
The Evens,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Das Ding,
Joey Negro,
Marc Almond,
Moby Grape,
Spandau Ballet,
The Pop Group,
Kurtis Blow,
Andrew Hill,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lalann,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Flag,
Barbara Tucker,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gastr Del Sol,
Au Pairs,
Heaven 17,
CMW,
Quando Quango,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Stereo Dub,
Gang of Four,
Goldenarms,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Desert Stars,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Divine Comedy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Flamin' Groovies,
James White and The Blacks,
Supertramp,
Essential Logic,
Rakim,
Jeff Lynne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aaron Thompson,
Barry Ungar,
Brick,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Bananas,
UT,
The Music Machine,
Mark Hollis,
Bootsy Collins,
The Star Department,
Wire,
Arcadia,
Main Source,
the Swans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Von Mondo,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.