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 Cape Verde and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Severed Heads to the punk 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Franke,
Lower 48,
Popol Vuh,
Alison Limerick,
Bobby Womack,
Boogie Down Productions,
Soft Machine,
Subhumans,
Byron Stingily,
New York Dolls,
E-Dancer,
the Soft Cell,
The Fortunes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rhythm & Sound,
Absolute Body Control,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Mummies,
The Evens,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wire,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
DJ Sneak,
Bad Manners,
Neil Young,
Marc Almond,
The Monochrome Set,
Slave,
Au Pairs,
Rod Modell,
Dawn Penn,
Royal Trux,
The Misunderstood,
Minny Pops,
Traffic Nightmare,
Echospace,
The Cramps,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mission of Burma,
Silicon Teens,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Brand Nubian,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lindisfarne,
Henry Cow,
Sun City Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Suicide,
Altered Images,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mr. Review,
The Gladiators,
8 Eyed Spy,
H. Thieme,
Eli Mardock,
Main Source,
Eden Ahbez,
Don Cherry,
Clear Light,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.