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 Finland and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Michael McDonald 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 Bad Manners to the crunk 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
cv313,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Spoonie Gee,
The Mummies,
New Order,
UT,
Zapp,
Trumans Water,
The Toasters,
The Doobie Brothers,
Franke,
Ludus,
Ituana,
Gang Green,
Pantaleimon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Bananas,
Robert Wyatt,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rapeman,
Chris & Cosey,
Throbbing Gristle,
Anakelly,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wally Richardson,
John Foxx,
The Skatalites,
Eric Copeland,
Moebius,
Fluxion,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Grauzone,
Ice-T,
Roxy Music,
The Fuzztones,
Shuggie Otis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Agent Orange,
Wolf Eyes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nils Olav,
The Monochrome Set,
Roger Hodgson,
Subhumans,
Cybotron,
Don Cherry,
Godley & Creme,
Black Sheep,
Scion,
Todd Rundgren,
The Blues Magoos,
Prince Buster,
E-Dancer,
Average White Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Boz Scaggs,
Popol Vuh,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.