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 Suriname and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the güiro 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 Mr. Review to the punk 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Morten Harket,
Skriet,
K-Klass,
Mary Jane Girls,
MDC,
Nas,
The Dirtbombs,
Marc Almond,
Suburban Knight,
X-Ray Spex,
Drexciya,
Jandek,
Eurythmics,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ten City,
Wally Richardson,
The Dead C,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fugs,
Dave Gahan,
The Divine Comedy,
The Seeds,
Q and Not U,
Joe Finger,
Sexual Harrassment,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wings,
Newcleus,
Crash Course in Science,
Darondo,
Half Japanese,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Easy Going,
Urselle,
Skarface,
Throbbing Gristle,
Danielle Patucci,
Das Ding,
Desert Stars,
Bizarre Inc.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Matthew Bourne,
Nik Kershaw,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ronnie Foster,
Mars,
The Mummies,
PIL,
Aswad,
Talk Talk,
Aloha Tigers,
Masters at Work,
Dennis Brown,
Arthur Verocai,
The Alarm Clocks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Monks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sound Behaviour,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.