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 Panama and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin 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 Harry Pussy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Bourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
The Fire Engines,
The Buckinghams,
Pierre Henry,
Deadbeat,
Urselle,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Easy Going,
The Music Machine,
Barrington Levy,
Vainqueur,
Alison Limerick,
Silicon Teens,
The Evens,
Popol Vuh,
Janne Schatter,
Sixth Finger,
Sparks,
The Standells,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Trumans Water,
The Tremeloes,
Skriet,
Warsaw,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Slave,
Thompson Twins,
Reuben Wilson,
Joey Negro,
The Seeds,
Sällskapet,
Loose Ends,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dawn Penn,
Y Pants,
Barbara Tucker,
Yaz,
Eddi Front,
Animal Collective,
Dead Boys,
Wire,
DJ Style,
Mr. Review,
World's Most,
Yellowson,
The Monochrome Set,
Radio Birdman,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Connie Case,
Aaron Thompson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
New York Dolls,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Amon Düül II,
Flamin' Groovies,
a-ha,
Amazonics,
Letta Mbulu,
Ralphi Rosario,
Max Romeo,
Essential Logic,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.