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 Libya and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Half Japanese 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Tres Demented,
The Pretty Things,
Guru Guru,
Average White Band,
Los Fastidios,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Fania All-Stars,
The United States of America,
Nick Fraelich,
Pierre Henry,
Popol Vuh,
Black Sheep,
Rites of Spring,
The Red Krayola,
Sandy B,
Kerri Chandler,
The Invisible,
The Stooges,
Gerry Rafferty,
Panda Bear,
Ituana,
DNA,
New York Dolls,
Marine Girls,
Erykah Badu,
Roxy Music,
Laurel Aitken,
Juan Atkins,
Infiniti,
The Martian,
cv313,
Sexual Harrassment,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Technova,
Lalann,
Radio Birdman,
The Busters,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare,
Camouflage,
James White and The Blacks,
Lower 48,
Graham Central Station,
The Index,
ABBA,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Black Pus,
Johnny Clarke,
Bauhaus,
Ohio Players,
The Slackers,
Scan 7,
Danielle Patucci,
Agent Orange,
The Evens,
Deakin,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Scion,
Unrelated Segments,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.