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 Maldives and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Cymande to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Qualms,
Aural Exciters,
Janne Schatter,
John Foxx,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Half Japanese,
Kurtis Blow,
Stereo Dub,
Roxette,
Bob Dylan,
Jeff Mills,
Frankie Knuckles,
Derrick May,
Los Fastidios,
Ponytail,
Parry Music,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Walker Brothers,
Chrome,
FM Einheit,
The Busters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mr. Review,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scott Walker,
Intrusion,
Boz Scaggs,
Aswad,
Leonard Cohen,
The Slits,
Mars,
DJ Sneak,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Minny Pops,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Procol Harum,
Tommy Roe,
The Raincoats,
the Association,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare,
Derrick Morgan,
The Zeros,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ultravox,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Minutemen,
the Bar-Kays,
U.S. Maple,
The Fugs,
Barclay James Harvest,
Stockholm Monsters,
Zapp,
a-ha,
The Cowsills,
The Monochrome Set,
The Kinks,
Newcleus,
Negative Approach,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Mission of Burma,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.