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 Turkey and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Mr. Review to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Ludus,
Quantec,
Crime,
Barrington Levy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Idris Muhammad,
Ronan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Zeros,
Hasil Adkins,
The Standells,
Absolute Body Control,
Panda Bear,
Robert Görl,
Fatback Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cecil Taylor,
Agitation Free,
Technova,
Morten Harket,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bang On A Can,
Rotary Connection,
China Crisis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
cv313,
Kenny Larkin,
Groovy Waters,
Kurtis Blow,
Boredoms,
the Normal,
Underground Resistance,
Negative Approach,
Tommy Roe,
Sam Rivers,
Wally Richardson,
Wolf Eyes,
Circle Jerks,
Babytalk,
The Modern Lovers,
Aaron Thompson,
the Germs,
Reagan Youth,
Henry Cow,
Shuggie Otis,
Ponytail,
The Electric Prunes,
Alphaville,
Jesper Dahlback,
Youth Brigade,
Althea and Donna,
Kerri Chandler,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Stooges,
Tom Boy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Minnie Riperton,
Terrestrial Tones,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.