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 Ethiopia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin 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 Whodini to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joensuu 1685 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Idris Muhammad,
Black Moon,
The Cowsills,
FM Einheit,
Judy Mowatt,
Vainqueur,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Beau Brummels,
Wolf Eyes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
K-Klass,
Lou Reed,
Charles Mingus,
Eric Copeland,
the Germs,
The Invisible,
Avey Tare,
Pantaleimon,
Sun Ra,
Pierre Henry,
Skarface,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Womack,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacques Brel,
Nils Olav,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Cramps,
Shoche,
Radiohead,
Erasure,
Sight & Sound,
Glenn Branca,
The Evens,
Gastr Del Sol,
H. Thieme,
Guru Guru,
The Smiths,
Byron Stingily,
Hot Snakes,
Faraquet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Aural Exciters,
Dead Boys,
Newcleus,
Reagan Youth,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
T.S.O.L.,
Tears for Fears,
Godley & Creme,
The Knickerbockers,
Symarip,
Brothers Johnson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Siglo XX,
10cc,
Oblivians,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.