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 Andorra and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin 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 R.M.O. to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Cluster,
Barbara Tucker,
Bronski Beat,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Smoke,
Al Stewart,
Yusef Lateef,
Eddi Front,
Smog,
The Litter,
Duran Duran,
Todd Terry,
Blancmange,
the Normal,
Brick,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fugazi,
Alice Coltrane,
Panda Bear,
Marvin Gaye,
John Foxx,
Idris Muhammad,
The Barracudas,
Sugar Minott,
Heaven 17,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ponytail,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Stooges,
The Tremeloes,
Wolf Eyes,
Eric Dolphy,
FM Einheit,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Surgeon,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Busters,
Henry Cow,
Bob Dylan,
Groovy Waters,
Barry Ungar,
Quando Quango,
Funkadelic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Trojans,
Hot Snakes,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Easy Going,
Von Mondo,
The Knickerbockers,
Deepchord,
The Techniques,
The Moody Blues,
Boogie Down Productions,
Circle Jerks,
Blake Baxter,
Althea and Donna,
Barrington Levy,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cal Tjader,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.