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 Paraguay and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Pet Shop Boys to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every OOIOO record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Zapp,
Big Daddy Kane,
Smog,
Ten City,
Brick,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Brand Nubian,
Babytalk,
The Residents,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Motions,
Robert Wyatt,
DJ Style,
Au Pairs,
Deepchord,
The Trojans,
Sparks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Byron Stingily,
Eddi Front,
Quadrant,
Bush Tetras,
Trumans Water,
Minutemen,
Kurtis Blow,
Rod Modell,
Desert Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
One Last Wish,
The Blackbyrds,
Outsiders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Lucky Dragons,
Fat Boys,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rotary Connection,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Delta 5,
Absolute Body Control,
David Bowie,
Ossler,
Ultravox,
Monolake,
MC5,
Michelle Simonal,
China Crisis,
Radio Birdman,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Byrd,
Intrusion,
JFA,
Letta Mbulu,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Velvet Underground,
Main Source,
Kerri Chandler,
Excepter,
The Stooges,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.