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 Bangladesh and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fire Engines to the electroclash 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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pere Ubu,
China Crisis,
Icehouse,
Guru Guru,
Ronan,
Mandrill,
Malaria!,
Scion,
The Saints,
In Retrospect,
The Motions,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cluster,
Johnny Clarke,
Section 25,
The Count Five,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Golliwogs,
Man Parrish,
The Doors,
Roxette,
Carl Craig,
Oneida,
Sister Nancy,
a-ha,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pulsallama,
Lungfish,
Magma,
Interpol,
CMW,
Amazonics,
Althea and Donna,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amon Düül II,
AZ,
Brothers Johnson,
The Shadows of Knight,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Donald Byrd,
Maurizio,
The J.B.'s,
The Fuzztones,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jacques Brel,
kango's stein massive,
Excepter,
the Bar-Kays,
Blossom Toes,
Drive Like Jehu,
ABC,
Soft Cell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Byron Stingily,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Seeds,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.