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 Niger and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Wire to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Barracudas,
K-Klass,
Neu!,
Camberwell Now,
FM Einheit,
Half Japanese,
Ituana,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Aaron Thompson,
Grey Daturas,
Siglo XX,
Chris & Cosey,
New York Dolls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Absolute Body Control,
The Techniques,
Tres Demented,
Ken Boothe,
Banda Bassotti,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bluetip,
Metal Thangz,
The Dirtbombs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rekid,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wally Richardson,
A Certain Ratio,
Kas Product,
Porter Ricks,
Wolf Eyes,
Cymande,
Intrusion,
The Real Kids,
Janne Schatter,
The Move,
Clear Light,
Niagra,
The Durutti Column,
Thee Headcoats,
Johnny Clarke,
Model 500,
Y Pants,
Altered Images,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Mojo Men,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Peter and Kerry,
Arab on Radar,
Quadrant,
The Names,
The Gladiators,
Warren Ellis,
Procol Harum,
The Residents,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Shadows of Knight,
Zero Boys,
Livin' Joy,
Avey Tare,
Visage,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.