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 Bahrain and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dirtbombs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All The Happenings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
X-102,
Maurizio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bush Tetras,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Buckinghams,
Traffic Nightmare,
China Crisis,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scion,
Sugar Minott,
KRS-One,
Connie Case,
Chrome,
Intrusion,
FM Einheit,
Country Teasers,
Slick Rick,
the Swans,
The Slits,
Pantaleimon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bob Dylan,
Chris Corsano,
Lower 48,
Darondo,
B.T. Express,
Cameo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Radio Birdman,
Flash Fearless,
New York Dolls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Thompson Twins,
Tim Buckley,
Minnie Riperton,
Dead Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gabor Szabo,
Joe Finger,
the Sonics,
Outsiders,
Agent Orange,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ronan,
Pussy Galore,
This Heat,
Black Flag,
John Lydon,
Carl Craig,
Fela Kuti,
Scientists,
Nils Olav,
Amon Düül II,
Susan Cadogan,
Pylon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.