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 Jamaica and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 spring reverb 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 Tim Buckley to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks 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 a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
The Music Machine,
The Evens,
Popol Vuh,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Anthony Braxton,
Eyeless In Gaza,
8 Eyed Spy,
Silicon Teens,
Sun Ra,
Excepter,
Josef K,
The Walker Brothers,
Index,
Scott Walker,
Qualms,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Mummies,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Babytalk,
Minor Threat,
Kerri Chandler,
The Searchers,
Whodini,
Judy Mowatt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joy Division,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Michelle Simonal,
Television Personalities,
Junior Murvin,
Pole,
Brick,
Kurtis Blow,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Angels of Light,
Simply Red,
Wings,
The Dead C,
Monolake,
FM Einheit,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
ABC,
Scion,
Aural Exciters,
Crooked Eye,
Quantec,
Minutemen,
Moss Icon,
Newcleus,
Lower 48,
Mission of Burma,
Circle Jerks,
Sister Nancy,
The New Christs,
Soft Machine,
Franke,
T. Rex,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.