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 Maldives and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer 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 Blossom Toes to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
X-102,
Ituana,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Scan 7,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sarah Menescal,
Shoche,
Drexciya,
Jeff Mills,
Essential Logic,
Soul II Soul,
Bang On A Can,
Skarface,
Circle Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Cale,
Smog,
Funky Four + One,
Al Stewart,
Vladislav Delay,
Tres Demented,
James White and The Blacks,
Panda Bear,
The Motions,
Nas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fluxion,
Loose Ends,
Supertramp,
Subhumans,
Ken Boothe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Public Enemy,
Sandy B,
MC5,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Pylon,
Hot Snakes,
The Monks,
Inner City,
Royal Trux,
Goldenarms,
Animal Collective,
10cc,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nico,
Throbbing Gristle,
L. Decosne,
Soft Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aaron Thompson,
Brothers Johnson,
La Düsseldorf,
Girls At Our Best!,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arab on Radar,
Bronski Beat,
Amon Düül II,
Bob Dylan,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.