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 Bolivia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Prince Buster to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Symarip,
Sonic Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fire Engines,
One Last Wish,
Fugazi,
The Names,
Idris Muhammad,
Ohio Players,
Organ,
the Slits,
JFA,
UT,
Warren Ellis,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Selecter,
Ronnie Foster,
Zapp,
Black Bananas,
Heaven 17,
Ossler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cameo,
New Age Steppers,
Camouflage,
A Certain Ratio,
FM Einheit,
U.S. Maple,
8 Eyed Spy,
Thompson Twins,
Scrapy,
Rosa Yemen,
Liliput,
Steve Hackett,
Groovy Waters,
Alison Limerick,
The Fugs,
Susan Cadogan,
Banda Bassotti,
Visage,
John Holt,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Talk Talk,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pussy Galore,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lou Christie,
The Kinks,
Dual Sessions,
Bill Near,
cv313,
Sixth Finger,
China Crisis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
James White and The Blacks,
Pylon,
Gang of Four,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.