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 Palau and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 rhodes 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 Absolute Body Control to the disco 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
Echospace,
Theoretical Girls,
Barrington Levy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camouflage,
The Young Rascals,
Magma,
China Crisis,
Unrelated Segments,
Davy DMX,
The Misunderstood,
F. McDonald,
Tom Boy,
Gang Green,
Grauzone,
Silicon Teens,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sandy B,
Gabor Szabo,
Y Pants,
Radio Birdman,
Black Sheep,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Sonics,
OOIOO,
Deadbeat,
The Red Krayola,
Monolake,
Robert Wyatt,
Wings,
Alice Coltrane,
ABBA,
T. Rex,
Charles Mingus,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Moon,
The Fire Engines,
Bang On A Can,
Tomorrow,
Byron Stingily,
Nick Fraelich,
David McCallum,
Michelle Simonal,
Tim Buckley,
Moss Icon,
John Cale,
John Coltrane,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lakeside,
Godley & Creme,
Visage,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Last Poets,
the Human League,
Marc Almond,
Organ,
Saccharine Trust,
Freddie Wadling,
Los Fastidios,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.