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 Georgia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Music Machine to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All FM Einheit tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Iggy Pop,
Bronski Beat,
Skarface,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Human League,
Black Sheep,
The Misunderstood,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bob Dylan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Motions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Adolescents,
Bobby Sherman,
Barrington Levy,
Kaleidoscope,
The Happenings,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sonics,
Sex Pistols,
Flash Fearless,
Gang of Four,
Ultimate Spinach,
Banda Bassotti,
Faust,
Erasure,
Joe Smooth,
Bluetip,
Henry Cow,
MC5,
The Standells,
Pussy Galore,
Charles Mingus,
Barclay James Harvest,
Moebius,
Camberwell Now,
Amon Düül,
Archie Shepp,
Albert Ayler,
Danielle Patucci,
Marshall Jefferson,
Hardrive,
The J.B.'s,
The Evens,
the Human League,
the Germs,
Funkadelic,
China Crisis,
Stereo Dub,
New Age Steppers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Doors,
Shoche,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rufus Thomas,
Warren Ellis,
The Remains,
Audionom,
Mark Hollis,
Malaria!,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.