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 Angola and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sun City Girls to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Foxx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marc Almond,
Basic Channel,
T. Rex,
Goldenarms,
Banda Bassotti,
Audionom,
The Offenders,
Gabor Szabo,
X-Ray Spex,
China Crisis,
The Gladiators,
Neil Young,
Symarip,
8 Eyed Spy,
Ornette Coleman,
Wasted Youth,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lindisfarne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rekid,
Gichy Dan,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Carl Craig,
KRS-One,
World's Most,
Wally Richardson,
Archie Shepp,
June of 44,
Qualms,
X-101,
Television,
The Moleskins,
Soul Sonic Force,
Television Personalities,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fad Gadget,
Theoretical Girls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Smoke,
Rites of Spring,
Kas Product,
The Count Five,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Piero Umiliani,
Anakelly,
Royal Trux,
Slave,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Görl,
Second Layer,
Faust,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Newcleus,
FM Einheit,
the Human League,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.