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 Madagascar and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Walker Brothers to the rock 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Ornette Coleman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Average White Band,
Sandy B,
The American Breed,
Banda Bassotti,
The Litter,
The Gun Club,
Black Pus,
Brick,
Glambeats Corp.,
Livin' Joy,
The Index,
Grauzone,
Sparks,
Man Parrish,
The Happenings,
Ronnie Foster,
Fluxion,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kaleidoscope,
Ultra Naté,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cluster,
Sun Ra,
Alison Limerick,
The Birthday Party,
The Neon Judgement,
Slick Rick,
Frankie Knuckles,
Man Eating Sloth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Unwound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Electric Prunes,
The Residents,
48th St. Collective,
Sixth Finger,
Trumans Water,
The Sonics,
Con Funk Shun,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Shadows of Knight,
Infiniti,
Erykah Badu,
Eli Mardock,
Neil Young,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eric Copeland,
Goldenarms,
Blancmange,
Jawbox,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crash Course in Science,
Sexual Harrassment,
OOIOO,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.