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 Tuvalu and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Lou Reed 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Black Pus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Techniques,
Index,
F. McDonald,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rosa Yemen,
The Young Rascals,
The Alarm Clocks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Deadbeat,
Derrick Morgan,
Livin' Joy,
Soul II Soul,
Chris Corsano,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Talk Talk,
Dark Day,
The Beau Brummels,
Quando Quango,
Tim Buckley,
The Golliwogs,
The Seeds,
Main Source,
New York Dolls,
Ronan,
Sex Pistols,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The United States of America,
Loose Ends,
La Düsseldorf,
Freddie Wadling,
Sugar Minott,
The New Christs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ituana,
Johnny Osbourne,
Alphaville,
Amazonics,
Q65,
The Leaves,
Hot Snakes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Busters,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bootsy Collins,
June Days,
Lebanon Hanover,
Judy Mowatt,
Dave Gahan,
Buzzcocks,
The Five Americans,
Ornette Coleman,
Agitation Free,
a-ha,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Althea and Donna,
U.S. Maple,
Yazoo,
Hoover,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.