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 Belarus and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Wally Richardson to the techno 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Television,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Angry Samoans,
the Sonics,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Cowsills,
Sam Rivers,
Scott Walker,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
One Last Wish,
Excepter,
kango's stein massive,
Swans,
Eric Dolphy,
The New Christs,
Crooked Eye,
The Gladiators,
Yazoo,
Minutemen,
Albert Ayler,
New Order,
Nick Fraelich,
T.S.O.L.,
AZ,
Swell Maps,
Simply Red,
Boz Scaggs,
Mr. Review,
The Velvet Underground,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eden Ahbez,
Liliput,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Techniques,
The Fugs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Popol Vuh,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Supertramp,
Pierre Henry,
Quadrant,
Piero Umiliani,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Victims,
R.M.O.,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Moby Grape,
Suicide,
Niagra,
The Busters,
Alton Ellis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Joyce Sims,
John Holt,
Silicon Teens,
Model 500,
Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts, Sunsets and Hearts.
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.