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 Iran and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Soft Cell to the grime 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Moby Grape,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angry Samoans,
Roxette,
Newcleus,
The Neon Judgement,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grey Daturas,
The Invisible,
Supertramp,
Black Pus,
Swans,
Flipper,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Harry Pussy,
The Selecter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Wings,
Bobby Byrd,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Maleditus Sound,
Sonic Youth,
LL Cool J,
Swell Maps,
Porter Ricks,
Cluster,
Lyres,
Minny Pops,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
X-101,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The United States of America,
Alice Coltrane,
The Beau Brummels,
Los Fastidios,
Pierre Henry,
Dawn Penn,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brick,
Mo-Dettes,
Dennis Brown,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Holt,
Public Enemy,
Anthony Braxton,
The Knickerbockers,
Spandau Ballet,
Kurtis Blow,
The Sonics,
Derrick May,
Lungfish,
Metal Thangz,
Grauzone,
Rufus Thomas,
Sight & Sound,
Audionom,
Pussy Galore,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.