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 Benin and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Holt,
Bronski Beat,
Arcadia,
Hashim,
Nas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Cowsills,
Bang On A Can,
Make Up,
Faraquet,
In Retrospect,
The Grass Roots,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fall,
Smog,
Agitation Free,
Country Teasers,
Zero Boys,
JFA,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Beau Brummels,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lucky Dragons,
Porter Ricks,
Marmalade,
Donny Hathaway,
Isaac Hayes,
The Mummies,
Con Funk Shun,
Wally Richardson,
Y Pants,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rapeman,
Michelle Simonal,
Amon Düül,
Blossom Toes,
Amon Düül II,
Theoretical Girls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Avey Tare,
Sparks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Archie Shepp,
CMW,
Connie Case,
Ralphi Rosario,
Althea and Donna,
Echospace,
Sam Rivers,
Suburban Knight,
Janne Schatter,
Oblivians,
Ultimate Spinach,
Supertramp,
ABBA,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pere Ubu,
FM Einheit,
T. Rex,
Roxy Music,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.