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 Kosovo and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the electroclash 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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter 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?
kango's stein massive,
Los Fastidios,
Radio Birdman,
The Barracudas,
Gabor Szabo,
Barbara Tucker,
The Monochrome Set,
Jacques Brel,
Faraquet,
Scion,
The Dirtbombs,
H. Thieme,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Fugs,
The Fall,
Cal Tjader,
The Gladiators,
A Certain Ratio,
Camouflage,
One Last Wish,
The Last Poets,
Ultra Naté,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Soft Cell,
Judy Mowatt,
Kool Moe Dee,
Interpol,
Scott Walker,
Pole,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Crash Course in Science,
Oblivians,
Jerry's Kids,
Eric Copeland,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Letta Mbulu,
Ronnie Foster,
Patti Smith,
David McCallum,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sugar Minott,
The Offenders,
Danielle Patucci,
Electric Prunes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Starr,
The Move,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Moss Icon,
Black Moon,
Wings,
Depeche Mode,
Chris & Cosey,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bobby Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lightning Bolt,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.