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 Chile and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the grunge 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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wire,
Soft Machine,
Con Funk Shun,
Pussy Galore,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slits,
E-Dancer,
Moby Grape,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Pretty Things,
The Velvet Underground,
Rod Modell,
Stetsasonic,
Simply Red,
Radio Birdman,
Bootsy Collins,
Thee Headcoats,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Residents,
Lindisfarne,
the Human League,
Marc Almond,
Scrapy,
Sister Nancy,
The Blues Magoos,
Mantronix,
Spandau Ballet,
Blake Baxter,
Schoolly D,
Magma,
Ornette Coleman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Little Man,
Qualms,
Aswad,
PIL,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lebanon Hanover,
Electric Light Orchestra,
X-101,
Flipper,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Raincoats,
Hasil Adkins,
The Gun Club,
Fugazi,
CMW,
Eddi Front,
The Sound,
Metal Thangz,
Tommy Roe,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Main Source,
Alice Coltrane,
Sixth Finger,
Bob Dylan,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.