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 the UAE and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe 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 Interpol to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Gang Green,
The Trojans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
Alison Limerick,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yazoo,
Urselle,
Davy DMX,
Khruangbin,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
U.S. Maple,
Grauzone,
Reagan Youth,
Silicon Teens,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bauhaus,
Sparks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sällskapet,
Sonny Sharrock,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gong,
Moebius,
Outsiders,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mantronix,
Livin' Joy,
Ronnie Foster,
48th St. Collective,
Kerrie Biddell,
Junior Murvin,
The American Breed,
Pagans,
Heaven 17,
Cal Tjader,
Albert Ayler,
June of 44,
John Holt,
Moby Grape,
The Associates,
Scratch Acid,
Alphaville,
Joe Finger,
Simply Red,
Warren Ellis,
Oneida,
Essential Logic,
The Walker Brothers,
Talk Talk,
the Soft Cell,
Black Pus,
Laurel Aitken,
Von Mondo,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joy Division,
Ornette Coleman,
Danielle Patucci,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.