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 Honduras and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Radiohead to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chrome record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Buzzcocks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chris & Cosey,
Radio Birdman,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mad Mike,
Marc Almond,
Wasted Youth,
Gang of Four,
The Dead C,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Alice Coltrane,
Echospace,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roxette,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bob Dylan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minor Threat,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Cale,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Piero Umiliani,
Icehouse,
Gichy Dan,
Aaron Thompson,
The Knickerbockers,
Kas Product,
Black Moon,
Quadrant,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Kinks,
Minny Pops,
Quando Quango,
K-Klass,
New Order,
Moby Grape,
June of 44,
Bobby Sherman,
Amon Düül,
DNA,
Pagans,
the Slits,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crooked Eye,
Alton Ellis,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cramps,
F. McDonald,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
48th St. Collective,
Nation of Ulysses,
Brick,
Rosa Yemen,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Blackbyrds,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Slave,
Robert Görl,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.