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 Malaysia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord 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 Jeru the Damaja to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Lower 48,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Blancmange,
D'Angelo,
The Moody Blues,
Stereo Dub,
Masters at Work,
Arcadia,
Amazonics,
H. Thieme,
Wire,
The Associates,
T.S.O.L.,
The Offenders,
the Swans,
Visage,
Franke,
The Young Rascals,
Section 25,
Motorama,
Sound Behaviour,
Letta Mbulu,
Goldenarms,
Throbbing Gristle,
Popol Vuh,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Monks,
Carl Craig,
Audionom,
Hot Snakes,
Public Enemy,
Icehouse,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Severed Heads,
Theoretical Girls,
Kerri Chandler,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang Starr,
Sugar Minott,
Sam Rivers,
Ken Boothe,
Erasure,
Bauhaus,
Marc Almond,
These Immortal Souls,
Ronan,
The Modern Lovers,
Tom Boy,
The Names,
The Divine Comedy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eli Mardock,
Babytalk,
Sonny Sharrock,
Terrestrial Tones,
Neil Young,
Yusef Lateef,
Glambeats Corp.,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Searchers,
Angry Samoans,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.