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 Namibia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Grass Roots,
The Music Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scrapy,
Susan Cadogan,
Stockholm Monsters,
Television,
Slave,
Lightning Bolt,
The Index,
Kool Moe Dee,
Al Stewart,
Guru Guru,
LL Cool J,
Danielle Patucci,
Accadde A,
the Sonics,
Pylon,
Throbbing Gristle,
E-Dancer,
Aswad,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Outsiders,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Litter,
The Move,
Derrick Morgan,
Bluetip,
Fela Kuti,
Oblivians,
Neu!,
Gang Green,
The Trojans,
Television Personalities,
Spandau Ballet,
DNA,
Flipper,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Aural Exciters,
Soft Machine,
Gil Scott Heron,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Velvet Underground,
Maurizio,
Index,
Mission of Burma,
One Last Wish,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Jawbox,
Boredoms,
Eli Mardock,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bang On A Can,
Motorama,
Deadbeat,
The Count Five,
Newcleus,
The Gap Band,
Andrew Hill,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.