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 Tunisia and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Camberwell Now to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
The Kinks,
Eli Mardock,
The Angels of Light,
The Durutti Column,
Bad Manners,
Young Marble Giants,
Radiohead,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Public Image Ltd.,
Crash Course in Science,
The Doors,
Sandy B,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Half Japanese,
Aaron Thompson,
Al Stewart,
Danielle Patucci,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Maurizio,
Janne Schatter,
Kurtis Blow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pussy Galore,
Crispy Ambulance,
Interpol,
Vladislav Delay,
Suicide,
Freddie Wadling,
The Standells,
Gabor Szabo,
Rakim,
The Birthday Party,
In Retrospect,
Barbara Tucker,
Los Fastidios,
Minny Pops,
Ultravox,
Carl Craig,
Country Teasers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Basic Channel,
Andrew Hill,
Dave Gahan,
E-Dancer,
Roger Hodgson,
Ponytail,
Amon Düül,
Patti Smith,
Aural Exciters,
Magazine,
The Human League,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cybotron,
Gang of Four,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.