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 Bolivia and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Michael McDonald 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 John Foxx to the disco 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
MC5,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Moon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Arcadia,
KRS-One,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lalann,
Swans,
Animal Collective,
Inner City,
Brand Nubian,
Agent Orange,
Angry Samoans,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joy Division,
Harry Pussy,
Terry Callier,
Beasts of Bourbon,
New Age Steppers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Schoolly D,
Moss Icon,
Desert Stars,
Rekid,
Vainqueur,
UT,
Glenn Branca,
Dual Sessions,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Neon Judgement,
Flash Fearless,
Andrew Hill,
Interpol,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ten City,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Goldenarms,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Graham Central Station,
The Last Poets,
Fat Boys,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ultravox,
LL Cool J,
The Saints,
Peter and Kerry,
Minutemen,
The Trojans,
The Slits,
Wolf Eyes,
Freddie Wadling,
Technova,
Henry Cow,
Panda Bear,
Maurizio,
Fatback Band,
Gang Starr,
Hoover,
The Gap Band,
Mars,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.