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 Kenya and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 arpeggiator 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 Terrestrial Tones to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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 Slits,
Bang On A Can,
Chris Corsano,
The Doors,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Graham Central Station,
The Golliwogs,
Deakin,
JFA,
Supertramp,
The Alarm Clocks,
Section 25,
Duran Duran,
The Saints,
CMW,
John Coltrane,
Jesper Dahlback,
Joensuu 1685,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sound Behaviour,
Funkadelic,
Nick Fraelich,
Pantaleimon,
Moby Grape,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Wake,
Boredoms,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Boz Scaggs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bush Tetras,
Royal Trux,
John Holt,
Be Bop Deluxe,
T.S.O.L.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Con Funk Shun,
Nico,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tres Demented,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Mojo Men,
Qualms,
Gichy Dan,
Dennis Brown,
Crash Course in Science,
The Birthday Party,
La Düsseldorf,
Arab on Radar,
Drexciya,
Mo-Dettes,
Prince Buster,
Bizarre Inc.,
Toni Rubio,
Liliput,
Blossom Toes,
New Order,
Gang Starr,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.