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 Estonia and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator 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 Black Flag to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
The Smiths,
Charles Mingus,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gong,
The Fortunes,
The Sonics,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pulsallama,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fall,
Visage,
Nation of Ulysses,
Glenn Branca,
Yellowson,
Henry Cow,
Bill Wells,
The Invisible,
The Kinks,
Mantronix,
the Sonics,
Electric Prunes,
Deadbeat,
Johnny Clarke,
Rekid,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Joe Finger,
Nik Kershaw,
Dennis Brown,
Aaron Thompson,
The Techniques,
The Velvet Underground,
Kayak,
Dave Gahan,
Kurtis Blow,
Mission of Burma,
Depeche Mode,
Fela Kuti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cameo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Aural Exciters,
Dead Boys,
Can,
Delta 5,
Underground Resistance,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lyres,
Pagans,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Grauzone,
Faust,
James White and The Blacks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Scratch Acid,
Avey Tare,
Parry Music,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.