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 Saudi Arabia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Donald Fagen 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 Fat Boys to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
X-Ray Spex,
Colin Newman,
Adolescents,
Crash Course in Science,
KRS-One,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mars,
Todd Rundgren,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Real Kids,
Gang Green,
Tomorrow,
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott Heron,
Goldenarms,
Darondo,
Wire,
Josef K,
The Residents,
Surgeon,
James White and The Blacks,
Scion,
Aural Exciters,
Black Pus,
Wasted Youth,
Prince Buster,
The Gun Club,
Grey Daturas,
Intrusion,
Rapeman,
Reuben Wilson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Soft Machine,
The Standells,
Pylon,
Beasts of Bourbon,
U.S. Maple,
the Human League,
Neu!,
Henry Cow,
Lou Christie,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tears for Fears,
Monks,
Lucky Dragons,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Toni Rubio,
DNA,
The Victims,
The Associates,
Tom Boy,
MDC,
Ituana,
Main Source,
Dead Boys,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nirvana,
Blake Baxter,
Barry Ungar,
Dave Gahan,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.