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 Marshall Islands and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 David Bowie 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 Sarah Menescal to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Theoretical Girls,
Henry Cow,
Joy Division,
Camouflage,
Con Funk Shun,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Severed Heads,
Grauzone,
The Divine Comedy,
the Bar-Kays,
Yellowson,
Eden Ahbez,
Gang of Four,
Bootsy Collins,
Sex Pistols,
The Dead C,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Neil Young,
Popol Vuh,
Supertramp,
Niagra,
Duran Duran,
The Blackbyrds,
Angry Samoans,
Ornette Coleman,
Gang Starr,
F. McDonald,
The Electric Prunes,
Japan,
Gong,
Sun Ra,
Wings,
OOIOO,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Boogie Down Productions,
Khruangbin,
Althea and Donna,
Echospace,
Groovy Waters,
K-Klass,
David Axelrod,
Cecil Taylor,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Dirtbombs,
Sixth Finger,
The Names,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Zeros,
Nirvana,
Mr. Review,
Archie Shepp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tears for Fears,
a-ha,
Fluxion,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stetsasonic,
Marcia Griffiths,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.