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 Cuba and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 linndrum 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 Sugar Minott to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All Nils Olav tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
The Pretty Things,
The Count Five,
Eurythmics,
Simply Red,
Robert Hood,
Throbbing Gristle,
Funky Four + One,
Suburban Knight,
Clear Light,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bob Dylan,
Jeff Lynne,
Hot Snakes,
Skarface,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Porter Ricks,
Mantronix,
Unwound,
Easy Going,
Man Parrish,
The J.B.'s,
Monks,
T.S.O.L.,
Stiv Bators,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lou Christie,
The Gories,
Nik Kershaw,
Rosa Yemen,
OOIOO,
ABC,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Skatalites,
Sugar Minott,
Gang Starr,
Danielle Patucci,
Stereo Dub,
Aloha Tigers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ornette Coleman,
X-102,
Procol Harum,
Eve St. Jones,
Dead Boys,
Lower 48,
The New Christs,
The Real Kids,
Marmalade,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bang On A Can,
John Cale,
Joe Smooth,
Hashim,
Underground Resistance,
Henry Cow,
Country Teasers,
The Blues Magoos,
Ludus,
The Cramps,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.