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 South Africa and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Amon Düül II to the disco 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Slits,
Mark Hollis,
The Kinks,
Excepter,
kango's stein massive,
The Dead C,
The Moody Blues,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bill Wells,
Sight & Sound,
Pussy Galore,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Funky Four + One,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gap Band,
Procol Harum,
The Fortunes,
Scion,
Fatback Band,
Shoche,
The Star Department,
Black Pus,
Swans,
Massinfluence,
Ohio Players,
Bob Dylan,
Eddi Front,
Heaven 17,
Section 25,
Throbbing Gristle,
Intrusion,
Adolescents,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fear,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Unwound,
Franke,
Whodini,
KRS-One,
The Human League,
Q65,
Jacques Brel,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Thee Headcoats,
Buzzcocks,
L. Decosne,
Hashim,
Marmalade,
Ossler,
Delon & Dalcan,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bauhaus,
David Bowie,
Ultravox,
Kurtis Blow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Technova,
Gabor Szabo,
Camouflage,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Danielle Patucci,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.