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 Croatia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet 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 The Fuzztones 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Sugar Minott,
Lightning Bolt,
Ossler,
Hashim,
The Beau Brummels,
Don Cherry,
The Fire Engines,
Accadde A,
L. Decosne,
Sun City Girls,
Barry Ungar,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Durutti Column,
Stiv Bators,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Move,
Shoche,
Tubeway Army,
Patti Smith,
ABC,
Quantec,
Donny Hathaway,
Pierre Henry,
Funkadelic,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jacques Brel,
Amazonics,
ABBA,
Hot Snakes,
Fad Gadget,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Hoover,
KRS-One,
Sandy B,
Reuben Wilson,
Eli Mardock,
Robert Hood,
Animal Collective,
Delon & Dalcan,
Yaz,
Vladislav Delay,
Tom Boy,
Lalann,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Litter,
Marcia Griffiths,
Fugazi,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Pretty Things,
Sonny Sharrock,
Malaria!,
Eden Ahbez,
Marvin Gaye,
Fat Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.