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 Seychelles and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 snare 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
The Slits,
Blake Baxter,
Kenny Larkin,
Scratch Acid,
Intrusion,
Ohio Players,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Durutti Column,
Patti Smith,
The Pretty Things,
Toni Rubio,
The American Breed,
The Doobie Brothers,
Reagan Youth,
Ituana,
T.S.O.L.,
Sister Nancy,
Dead Boys,
the Normal,
Idris Muhammad,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gladiators,
Newcleus,
John Holt,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang of Four,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
New Order,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kerri Chandler,
David Bowie,
New York Dolls,
Jerry's Kids,
Cal Tjader,
The Music Machine,
Brand Nubian,
Black Bananas,
Wally Richardson,
DJ Style,
Yellowson,
Anakelly,
The Misunderstood,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fela Kuti,
The Young Rascals,
The Offenders,
the Association,
The Victims,
Jandek,
Alton Ellis,
Faust,
Young Marble Giants,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alphaville,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Technova,
The Monks,
The Birthday Party,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.