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 Greece and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 arpeggiator 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 Boredoms to the crunk 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
The Moody Blues,
Blancmange,
Khruangbin,
H. Thieme,
Wire,
Bad Manners,
Fear,
Connie Case,
the Soft Cell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Stiv Bators,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Beau Brummels,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Grandmaster Flash,
Josef K,
Pantaleimon,
The Music Machine,
Talk Talk,
Nas,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joyce Sims,
The Doors,
John Holt,
Con Funk Shun,
Barbara Tucker,
Tommy Roe,
Spandau Ballet,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Selecter,
June of 44,
Unwound,
Mandrill,
Eurythmics,
Matthew Halsall,
The Standells,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
D'Angelo,
Arab on Radar,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Duran Duran,
Wings,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ornette Coleman,
Trumans Water,
Reagan Youth,
Can,
Suicide,
Gichy Dan,
Theoretical Girls,
Sixth Finger,
China Crisis,
One Last Wish,
The Mummies,
Minny Pops,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Max Romeo,
Jerry's Kids,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.