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 Sweden and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Robert Palmer 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gabor Szabo,
Lou Reed,
Stereo Dub,
Gichy Dan,
Junior Murvin,
Derrick Morgan,
John Lydon,
Japan,
New Age Steppers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Mummies,
Alison Limerick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure,
Anakelly,
Magazine,
Suburban Knight,
Trumans Water,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Liliput,
Bush Tetras,
Black Flag,
The Neon Judgement,
Mars,
Dawn Penn,
The Leaves,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Cowsills,
Faust,
Porter Ricks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Heaven 17,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lindisfarne,
Soft Machine,
Guru Guru,
Visage,
Subhumans,
Wolf Eyes,
Derrick May,
Y Pants,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aloha Tigers,
Ossler,
Reagan Youth,
Nation of Ulysses,
Drexciya,
Traffic Nightmare,
Blossom Toes,
Main Source,
Ronan,
UT,
Toni Rubio,
The Buckinghams,
Nik Kershaw,
World's Most,
Joy Division,
Bauhaus,
Gregory Isaacs,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.