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 Kazakhstan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Stiv Bators to the rap 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 The Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Malaria!,
Severed Heads,
The Star Department,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Massinfluence,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Normal,
Pantytec,
Make Up,
Glenn Branca,
Half Japanese,
Ludus,
Quando Quango,
Hardrive,
The Index,
Anakelly,
Max Romeo,
Deakin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yazoo,
Tomorrow,
Main Source,
The Monks,
Motorama,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hasil Adkins,
Sam Rivers,
Index,
The Happenings,
Bill Wells,
MDC,
Ponytail,
Easy Going,
Sarah Menescal,
Camouflage,
Eurythmics,
Tres Demented,
Black Pus,
Young Marble Giants,
Whodini,
Dave Gahan,
Sun Ra,
Henry Cow,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Human League,
Television Personalities,
The Busters,
Freddie Wadling,
Stereo Dub,
John Lydon,
Magma,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Smoke,
Livin' Joy,
Skarface,
Ohio Players,
cv313,
The Monochrome Set,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Kinks,
Nirvana,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.