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 Tajikistan and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Magma,
the Slits,
Livin' Joy,
Soulsonic Force,
Derrick May,
Circle Jerks,
Gabor Szabo,
Soft Cell,
Siglo XX,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Golliwogs,
Steve Hackett,
The Litter,
La Düsseldorf,
The Blackbyrds,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
One Last Wish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Liliput,
The Pop Group,
Nas,
The Gun Club,
Tears for Fears,
The Count Five,
Crispy Ambulance,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radiopuhelimet,
Underground Resistance,
Kas Product,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
L. Decosne,
Depeche Mode,
The Busters,
Jeff Lynne,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fela Kuti,
Crime,
X-102,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lalann,
The Moody Blues,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Swell Maps,
China Crisis,
Aural Exciters,
Bobby Womack,
The Human League,
Basic Channel,
Ten City,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Donald Byrd,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rapeman,
Skriet,
The Electric Prunes,
The Red Krayola,
E-Dancer,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.