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 San Marino and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Deepchord to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Maurizio,
Parry Music,
Lyres,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Suicide,
Metal Thangz,
Bluetip,
The Busters,
Yazoo,
ABBA,
the Slits,
Jerry's Kids,
The Mojo Men,
World's Most,
Harry Pussy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
Amon Düül,
Reagan Youth,
Dark Day,
The Kinks,
Sarah Menescal,
Basic Channel,
The Motions,
Bootsy Collins,
John Foxx,
Icehouse,
The Fire Engines,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cybotron,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kas Product,
It's A Beautiful Day,
8 Eyed Spy,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Misunderstood,
Rosa Yemen,
Gang of Four,
The Sound,
Danielle Patucci,
Max Romeo,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fat Boys,
The Offenders,
Vainqueur,
The Standells,
Dead Boys,
Marine Girls,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The New Christs,
the Bar-Kays,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Donald Byrd,
Ponytail,
Fela Kuti,
The Saints,
Scrapy,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.