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 Tonga and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Offenders to the grunge 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
James White and The Blacks,
The Grass Roots,
Wings,
Carl Craig,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Alison Limerick,
Crooked Eye,
a-ha,
Sight & Sound,
Monolake,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fela Kuti,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hasil Adkins,
Brass Construction,
Brothers Johnson,
Tres Demented,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Mr. Review,
This Heat,
The Velvet Underground,
Nik Kershaw,
Nico,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Human League,
The Cowsills,
The Fuzztones,
Bob Dylan,
cv313,
Mission of Burma,
Bush Tetras,
Con Funk Shun,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Blackbyrds,
The Beau Brummels,
Thompson Twins,
Lightning Bolt,
The Flesh Eaters,
Qualms,
The Walker Brothers,
Erykah Badu,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Flag,
Bang On A Can,
Sex Pistols,
Adolescents,
Wally Richardson,
The Saints,
Isaac Hayes,
Talk Talk,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Depeche Mode,
Toni Rubio,
Jeff Mills,
June of 44,
Man Parrish,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.