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 Rwanda and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator 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 This Heat to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Fear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
E-Dancer,
Bobby Sherman,
Lyres,
Mark Hollis,
Rekid,
Flipper,
John Coltrane,
Barrington Levy,
Man Parrish,
Drexciya,
Sandy B,
Bobby Byrd,
New Order,
Magma,
The Vogues,
James White and The Blacks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lou Reed,
Pagans,
The J.B.'s,
Half Japanese,
Spandau Ballet,
Intrusion,
Erykah Badu,
The Dirtbombs,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monks,
Tropical Tobacco,
David Axelrod,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Holt,
the Swans,
the Slits,
The Smoke,
Yaz,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Buckinghams,
Brothers Johnson,
The Martian,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
K-Klass,
The Busters,
Radiohead,
Robert Hood,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Al Stewart,
Gang of Four,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rotary Connection,
Shuggie Otis,
Maleditus Sound,
The Music Machine,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joensuu 1685,
Youth Brigade,
Dark Day,
Connie Case,
Scientists,
Radio Birdman,
Sun City Girls,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.