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 Jordan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 The Detroit Cobras to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Unwound,
The Fuzztones,
The Skatalites,
Theoretical Girls,
The Misunderstood,
DNA,
Dave Gahan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scan 7,
Piero Umiliani,
Stetsasonic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Associates,
48th St. Collective,
The United States of America,
Flash Fearless,
Yusef Lateef,
Agitation Free,
Byron Stingily,
Deadbeat,
Stereo Dub,
Faraquet,
Kerri Chandler,
Mission of Burma,
Colin Newman,
Albert Ayler,
This Heat,
Vainqueur,
The Buckinghams,
Tres Demented,
Joensuu 1685,
The Gun Club,
Tim Buckley,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Raincoats,
Freddie Wadling,
Oblivians,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Visage,
Mandrill,
8 Eyed Spy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Joe Finger,
Ralphi Rosario,
These Immortal Souls,
Erykah Badu,
Matthew Halsall,
Suicide,
H. Thieme,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Copeland,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pussy Galore,
Sarah Menescal,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ten City,
Quantec,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.