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 Ghana and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Simply Red,
Rufus Thomas,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bad Manners,
In Retrospect,
Livin' Joy,
Janne Schatter,
Sonny Sharrock,
Amazonics,
The Red Krayola,
Jawbox,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Cymande,
Public Enemy,
The Pretty Things,
Kas Product,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kayak,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Josef K,
The Move,
Colin Newman,
Schoolly D,
Crime,
CMW,
Shuggie Otis,
Can,
Average White Band,
Pussy Galore,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Todd Rundgren,
Severed Heads,
Eurythmics,
Ten City,
Mad Mike,
Erasure,
Animal Collective,
Archie Shepp,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Monks,
Boz Scaggs,
Swans,
Ronan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Monolake,
Ultravox,
Pylon,
FM Einheit,
Byron Stingily,
The Birthday Party,
X-Ray Spex,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Skriet,
Toni Rubio,
Amon Düül II,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.