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 Slovakia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Nico to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
The Mojo Men,
Lalann,
Tears for Fears,
Harry Pussy,
Jawbox,
Intrusion,
Charles Mingus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Alarm Clocks,
Loose Ends,
X-Ray Spex,
The Move,
Silicon Teens,
Icehouse,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Neon Judgement,
Ohio Players,
Unrelated Segments,
Al Stewart,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Byrd,
Tomorrow,
The Knickerbockers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rotary Connection,
Echospace,
Motorama,
La Düsseldorf,
In Retrospect,
Hot Snakes,
F. McDonald,
Animal Collective,
Subhumans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fela Kuti,
Q and Not U,
John Holt,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Lydon,
The Birthday Party,
Bang On A Can,
Boredoms,
Outsiders,
Bootsy Collins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ice-T,
Jerry Gold Smith,
T. Rex,
Hardrive,
Bush Tetras,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Thee Headcoats,
Sugar Minott,
Reuben Wilson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Yazoo,
Faraquet,
Eric Copeland,
Babytalk,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.