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 France and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Robert Palmer 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 DNA to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Symarip 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Pus,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Parrish,
Ice-T,
Bang On A Can,
The Music Machine,
DNA,
Yaz,
This Heat,
X-102,
Eric B and Rakim,
Interpol,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Newcleus,
Yellowson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Foxx,
Animal Collective,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sixth Finger,
The Fire Engines,
Alton Ellis,
The Sonics,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Y Pants,
Sonic Youth,
The Gories,
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
Alphaville,
Aswad,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Womack,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gap Band,
Easy Going,
Junior Murvin,
Oblivians,
Ultra Naté,
Spoonie Gee,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tom Boy,
The Happenings,
Rod Modell,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pop Group,
Anakelly,
Marvin Gaye,
Quando Quango,
Sällskapet,
Mandrill,
Loose Ends,
Marcia Griffiths,
D'Angelo,
Marc Almond,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Residents,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.