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 Cameroon and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 The Dirtbombs to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Talk Talk,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Moon,
Sun City Girls,
Agitation Free,
The Move,
Pussy Galore,
Boredoms,
L. Decosne,
Bauhaus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ronnie Foster,
Mad Mike,
The Gun Club,
Sällskapet,
Jeff Lynne,
Robert Görl,
Swans,
The Star Department,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Thompson Twins,
Darondo,
The Happenings,
Inner City,
The Moody Blues,
Ten City,
Whodini,
The Smoke,
Severed Heads,
the Germs,
The Wake,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ronan,
Chris Corsano,
Angry Samoans,
The Stooges,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marcia Griffiths,
Suburban Knight,
The Angels of Light,
Barclay James Harvest,
Delta 5,
Desert Stars,
The Standells,
The Fortunes,
Sex Pistols,
Soft Cell,
The Young Rascals,
Soulsonic Force,
Bronski Beat,
Fela Kuti,
The Raincoats,
Colin Newman,
The Misunderstood,
DNA,
UT,
The Offenders,
Byron Stingily,
a-ha,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.