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 Belgium and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angry Samoans to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Eurythmics,
10cc,
Jacob Miller,
Moebius,
UT,
James White and The Blacks,
The American Breed,
The Leaves,
Supertramp,
H. Thieme,
Suburban Knight,
Matthew Halsall,
The Grass Roots,
Moss Icon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sixth Finger,
Stereo Dub,
Avey Tare,
The Busters,
Deadbeat,
John Lydon,
John Holt,
The Real Kids,
The Blues Magoos,
The Skatalites,
Thompson Twins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crash Course in Science,
Letta Mbulu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mary Jane Girls,
Yazoo,
The Zeros,
Pylon,
Radio Birdman,
The Dirtbombs,
Cluster,
The Neon Judgement,
The Slackers,
Robert Hood,
Iggy Pop,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roger Hodgson,
Pierre Henry,
Alison Limerick,
Smog,
Barbara Tucker,
June Days,
Qualms,
The Fugs,
The Electric Prunes,
Ituana,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Velvet Underground,
Cymande,
kango's stein massive,
Essential Logic,
Sister Nancy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cowsills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.