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 Zimbabwe and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Khruangbin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Fatback Band,
Depeche Mode,
Royal Trux,
Spandau Ballet,
48th St. Collective,
The Young Rascals,
The Alarm Clocks,
Visage,
The Smiths,
Sun Ra,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Move,
Graham Central Station,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Evens,
Television Personalities,
X-Ray Spex,
Big Daddy Kane,
Charles Mingus,
Todd Terry,
The Offenders,
Pole,
These Immortal Souls,
Maleditus Sound,
Franke,
Pere Ubu,
Pulsallama,
Funkadelic,
The Blues Magoos,
Skaos,
Ronan,
Avey Tare,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Sherman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Birthday Party,
Nico,
Organ,
KRS-One,
Traffic Nightmare,
Shoche,
Quantec,
Judy Mowatt,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lou Christie,
John Lydon,
Young Marble Giants,
Brass Construction,
Con Funk Shun,
The Gories,
Faraquet,
Isaac Hayes,
Rakim,
Gang of Four,
David Bowie,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Darondo,
Prince Buster,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.