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 Argentina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Desert Stars,
The Index,
The Smoke,
Ludus,
The Grass Roots,
Tim Buckley,
Skriet,
X-Ray Spex,
Sex Pistols,
Porter Ricks,
Dead Boys,
Country Teasers,
Television Personalities,
Tommy Roe,
The Barracudas,
Sonny Sharrock,
Byron Stingily,
Deakin,
The Cowsills,
The Tremeloes,
Eden Ahbez,
Monolake,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
David Axelrod,
Pulsallama,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Magma,
Bobby Hutcherson,
E-Dancer,
Idris Muhammad,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Nas,
Matthew Halsall,
Blossom Toes,
Sun Ra,
Malaria!,
The Zeros,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dirtbombs,
Ronnie Foster,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fugs,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Patti Smith,
Jawbox,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scientists,
Dawn Penn,
Todd Terry,
R.M.O.,
Q and Not U,
Tom Boy,
Swans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Toasters,
Cecil Taylor,
The Cramps,
Mission of Burma,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.