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 Burkina and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Simply Red to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Liliput,
John Foxx,
Brick,
Josef K,
Boredoms,
Groovy Waters,
Stiv Bators,
Roy Ayers,
Lalann,
Scrapy,
Alphaville,
The Birthday Party,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fugs,
Agent Orange,
The Monochrome Set,
Toni Rubio,
Can,
The Gories,
The Standells,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bauhaus,
Deepchord,
Eric Copeland,
The Happenings,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Desert Stars,
The Electric Prunes,
Ken Boothe,
Kool Moe Dee,
Con Funk Shun,
Scan 7,
Monolake,
Bill Wells,
Rod Modell,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alison Limerick,
Duran Duran,
Marshall Jefferson,
Man Parrish,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scott Walker,
Bob Dylan,
Barbara Tucker,
Fluxion,
Circle Jerks,
the Soft Cell,
Roger Hodgson,
Symarip,
The Smoke,
Rotary Connection,
Wally Richardson,
Qualms,
The Martian,
Dave Gahan,
David Bowie,
In Retrospect,
Sparks,
Davy DMX,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.