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 Haiti and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Little Man to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jerry's Kids,
Derrick Morgan,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Avey Tare,
The Angels of Light,
Marmalade,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Selecter,
Pantytec,
Wally Richardson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Al Stewart,
Neu!,
Model 500,
X-Ray Spex,
Funky Four + One,
Pussy Galore,
Desert Stars,
Section 25,
The Knickerbockers,
T. Rex,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Fugazi,
One Last Wish,
Roxy Music,
Saccharine Trust,
Accadde A,
Don Cherry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harmonia,
Underground Resistance,
Shuggie Otis,
Arab on Radar,
New York Dolls,
In Retrospect,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Bar-Kays,
Flamin' Groovies,
Terry Callier,
Mad Mike,
The Fall,
Cybotron,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Slave,
the Normal,
Minny Pops,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gichy Dan,
The Stooges,
Dawn Penn,
Yaz,
Dennis Brown,
The Grass Roots,
Y Pants,
Wolf Eyes,
Thompson Twins,
Morten Harket,
Shoche,
Interpol,
Fela Kuti,
Boz Scaggs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.