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 Georgia 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Spandau Ballet to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Depeche Mode,
Japan,
Organ,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crispian St. Peters,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pylon,
Cheater Slicks,
the Bar-Kays,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Warsaw,
Moss Icon,
Sam Rivers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barry Ungar,
The Monochrome Set,
Half Japanese,
Television Personalities,
Black Sheep,
Anthony Braxton,
Freddie Wadling,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cymande,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kaleidoscope,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kas Product,
Urselle,
L. Decosne,
Quantec,
The Cure,
Sex Pistols,
Arab on Radar,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wally Richardson,
Don Cherry,
The Wake,
Rod Modell,
Sight & Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Delta 5,
Oneida,
Swans,
Franke,
Warren Ellis,
The Remains,
Ice-T,
The Durutti Column,
Simply Red,
Gichy Dan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soul Sonic Force,
Massinfluence,
Barbara Tucker,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Modern Lovers,
Fela Kuti,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sällskapet,
Skriet,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.