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 Afghanistan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Mandrill 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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
Black Pus,
Faust,
The Wake,
Skarface,
Index,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Con Funk Shun,
Gang of Four,
Derrick Morgan,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Barracudas,
Fad Gadget,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Doors,
Tim Buckley,
Crash Course in Science,
Harry Pussy,
Monolake,
Ultravox,
Sugar Minott,
Flash Fearless,
Cheater Slicks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Whodini,
Cybotron,
Rekid,
Chrome,
Nils Olav,
Mark Hollis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scientists,
Spoonie Gee,
the Sonics,
June of 44,
Sällskapet,
10cc,
The Mojo Men,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Victims,
Curtis Mayfield,
Angry Samoans,
The Velvet Underground,
Gabor Szabo,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Smoke,
The Evens,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Amon Düül,
Alice Coltrane,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Kinks,
Bush Tetras,
Ultra Naté,
Pere Ubu,
Shoche,
Black Bananas,
Oblivians,
The Dave Clark Five,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.