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 Tanzania and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Fuzztones to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
Eric B and Rakim,
Arthur Verocai,
Masters at Work,
Deepchord,
The Golliwogs,
The Techniques,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barbara Tucker,
World's Most,
Fear,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
June Days,
Ultravox,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hardrive,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Siglo XX,
Desert Stars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bad Manners,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Severed Heads,
Infiniti,
Nirvana,
Joe Finger,
Judy Mowatt,
The Evens,
Darondo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Matthew Bourne,
Man Parrish,
James White and The Blacks,
Brothers Johnson,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Boredoms,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Dave Clark Five,
Saccharine Trust,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Last Poets,
The Toasters,
the Germs,
Suicide,
OOIOO,
Pussy Galore,
Sex Pistols,
Unwound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
AZ,
Deadbeat,
The Selecter,
EPMD,
Hoover,
Sandy B,
DJ Style,
Absolute Body Control,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.