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 Zambia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Delhi and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pagans to the punk 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 Ash Ra Tempel. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
JFA,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pharoah Sanders,
Arthur Verocai,
Ronnie Foster,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pagans,
Ultravox,
Todd Terry,
Nico,
Arab on Radar,
8 Eyed Spy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Aloha Tigers,
Marmalade,
Hashim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Susan Cadogan,
Severed Heads,
Bill Near,
Robert Hood,
X-Ray Spex,
Neil Young,
Ornette Coleman,
Donny Hathaway,
Section 25,
Jawbox,
China Crisis,
Brick,
Ten City,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Barracudas,
Crash Course in Science,
Mantronix,
Soft Machine,
Max Romeo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Spandau Ballet,
the Germs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Theoretical Girls,
The Gladiators,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-101,
MDC,
Mr. Review,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gang Green,
Rites of Spring,
Harmonia,
These Immortal Souls,
The Music Machine,
The Smiths,
Sister Nancy,
Liliput,
Derrick Morgan,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.