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 Uruguay and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Tom Verlaine 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the dance 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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
Grandmaster Flash,
ABBA,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Blancmange,
Intrusion,
Oblivians,
Avey Tare,
Alison Limerick,
Amon Düül,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Litter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pharoah Sanders,
Max Romeo,
Godley & Creme,
Reagan Youth,
DNA,
One Last Wish,
Andrew Hill,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Simply Red,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rapeman,
The Monks,
Masters at Work,
Fugazi,
Adolescents,
The Toasters,
Pole,
The Gap Band,
JFA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Real Kids,
June Days,
John Holt,
Aswad,
Schoolly D,
Fat Boys,
Roger Hodgson,
The Sonics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Don Cherry,
Nico,
Mad Mike,
Bootsy Collins,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Pop Group,
Black Bananas,
Curtis Mayfield,
Infiniti,
Television,
Ronnie Foster,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stereo Dub,
Colin Newman,
Erasure,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Dirtbombs,
Bauhaus,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.