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 Montenegro and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cluster to the jazz 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Ituana,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minny Pops,
Fatback Band,
Nik Kershaw,
The Moleskins,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxy Music,
The Saints,
Juan Atkins,
X-Ray Spex,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fuzztones,
Don Cherry,
The Toasters,
Chris & Cosey,
Eurythmics,
Make Up,
Excepter,
Shuggie Otis,
Soft Cell,
Wally Richardson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barry Ungar,
The Fire Engines,
Kaleidoscope,
The Motions,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Adolescents,
Al Stewart,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Star Department,
Stereo Dub,
Whodini,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Moss Icon,
Qualms,
Eli Mardock,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fall,
Jeff Lynne,
The Invisible,
Boz Scaggs,
Depeche Mode,
Flamin' Groovies,
Basic Channel,
Slave,
Los Fastidios,
Black Bananas,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Mojo Men,
Public Enemy,
Fear,
Oblivians,
Magma,
Ludus,
The Count Five,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.