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 Cameroon and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the grunge 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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Pantaleimon,
The Grass Roots,
Soulsonic Force,
The Beau Brummels,
The Offenders,
Pole,
Outsiders,
Moby Grape,
Shuggie Otis,
X-Ray Spex,
Visage,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pere Ubu,
Kayak,
Archie Shepp,
June of 44,
Henry Cow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Agent Orange,
In Retrospect,
Alphaville,
Connie Case,
New Age Steppers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Chris Corsano,
Michelle Simonal,
Camouflage,
Soft Cell,
Stereo Dub,
Sexual Harrassment,
Loose Ends,
Pantytec,
Gil Scott Heron,
Janne Schatter,
Chrome,
T. Rex,
R.M.O.,
Ice-T,
Josef K,
Jerry's Kids,
Fear,
Kerrie Biddell,
Steve Hackett,
Marmalade,
Spoonie Gee,
Brand Nubian,
Siglo XX,
The Victims,
Agitation Free,
Unrelated Segments,
Boredoms,
La Düsseldorf,
Essential Logic,
Slick Rick,
Wings,
Kenny Larkin,
The Star Department,
Whodini,
John Foxx,
Fela Kuti,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.