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 Cairo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Barracudas to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Godley & Creme. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Quantec,
Donny Hathaway,
June of 44,
Gang Starr,
8 Eyed Spy,
Brand Nubian,
Tim Buckley,
Aswad,
The Move,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joe Finger,
Nation of Ulysses,
Derrick Morgan,
Depeche Mode,
The Index,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sun City Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amon Düül II,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Pus,
Yusef Lateef,
Rufus Thomas,
Underground Resistance,
H. Thieme,
Eric B and Rakim,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
X-Ray Spex,
Sexual Harrassment,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soft Cell,
U.S. Maple,
The Modern Lovers,
Archie Shepp,
Harpers Bizarre,
Byron Stingily,
Blake Baxter,
John Holt,
Tommy Roe,
The Doors,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Moleskins,
Pierre Henry,
Scan 7,
David Bowie,
Simply Red,
Hoover,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Urselle,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Searchers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
New Order,
Model 500,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.