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 Sri Lanka and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 mellotron 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 Arab on Radar to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lonnie Liston Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
AZ,
Joensuu 1685,
Moss Icon,
Smog,
Blake Baxter,
Skaos,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Sherman,
Carl Craig,
Lalann,
Guru Guru,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Happenings,
The Buckinghams,
The Martian,
Byron Stingily,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Index,
Joe Finger,
Pere Ubu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Move,
Amon Düül II,
Marshall Jefferson,
Little Man,
Tropical Tobacco,
Masters at Work,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rites of Spring,
Negative Approach,
Freddie Wadling,
Fat Boys,
The Real Kids,
The Fortunes,
Funkadelic,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Barbara Tucker,
Minnie Riperton,
Basic Channel,
Josef K,
Michelle Simonal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
FM Einheit,
Hoover,
Althea and Donna,
The Fall,
Grauzone,
Hashim,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pulsallama,
Fad Gadget,
Sarah Menescal,
Tears for Fears,
Letta Mbulu,
Ten City,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.