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 Seychelles and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 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 Nik Kershaw to the disco 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
T.S.O.L.,
the Swans,
The Searchers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Delta 5,
The Cramps,
Tears for Fears,
Mr. Review,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Dead C,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Christie,
Japan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Yellowson,
The Zeros,
The Standells,
Steve Hackett,
Black Flag,
Young Marble Giants,
Los Fastidios,
Dave Gahan,
Marmalade,
The Velvet Underground,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Coltrane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cymande,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The New Christs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Drexciya,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Inner City,
Ultra Naté,
Scrapy,
The Smiths,
These Immortal Souls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Echospace,
Amon Düül II,
Khruangbin,
Q65,
John Lydon,
Circle Jerks,
Lindisfarne,
The Misunderstood,
Gang Gang Dance,
June of 44,
Nirvana,
Barrington Levy,
Little Man,
The Modern Lovers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bobby Sherman,
the Normal,
The Dirtbombs,
Lalann,
Intrusion,
Cecil Taylor,
Eurythmics,
Erasure,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.