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 San Marino and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Accra.
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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Shadows of Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Mojo Men,
CMW,
Au Pairs,
Susan Cadogan,
Hashim,
Sun City Girls,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
E-Dancer,
Pere Ubu,
Carl Craig,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Mantronix,
Tres Demented,
Royal Trux,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pierre Henry,
Freddie Wadling,
The Names,
Ituana,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nick Fraelich,
John Lydon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gong,
Colin Newman,
The Index,
Motorama,
Swans,
Albert Ayler,
Harmonia,
DNA,
Jacques Brel,
The Motions,
a-ha,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Moleskins,
the Sonics,
Hot Snakes,
Lightning Bolt,
Wasted Youth,
Joyce Sims,
Black Sheep,
The Misunderstood,
H. Thieme,
The Alarm Clocks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fad Gadget,
Television Personalities,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Yellowson,
Rekid,
T.S.O.L.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Interpol,
Harry Pussy,
Boredoms,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Morten Harket,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.