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 South Sudan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rites of Spring to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacob Miller record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Circle Jerks,
Alton Ellis,
The Doors,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Techniques,
Sex Pistols,
Connie Case,
John Holt,
Avey Tare,
Wasted Youth,
Carl Craig,
ABBA,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Interpol,
Alison Limerick,
The Blues Magoos,
the Association,
The Modern Lovers,
Boz Scaggs,
Iggy Pop,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Zeros,
Mr. Review,
Magma,
Zapp,
Malaria!,
Jeff Lynne,
Eddi Front,
Animal Collective,
The Names,
Jawbox,
Shuggie Otis,
Duran Duran,
Crash Course in Science,
T.S.O.L.,
Zero Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Depeche Mode,
Drive Like Jehu,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Archie Shepp,
The Remains,
The Cowsills,
Jerry's Kids,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Chris Corsano,
New York Dolls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Big Daddy Kane,
Warsaw,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rufus Thomas,
Freddie Wadling,
David McCallum,
Dual Sessions,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.