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 El Salvador and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Barry Ungar to the electroclash 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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The Victims,
Q65,
Sarah Menescal,
Patti Smith,
Cheater Slicks,
The American Breed,
The Dead C,
Lyres,
The Pretty Things,
Junior Murvin,
Black Sheep,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Age Steppers,
John Lydon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rapeman,
John Foxx,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cowsills,
The Index,
Lou Reed,
Lungfish,
Tim Buckley,
The Golliwogs,
Moss Icon,
The Sound,
Marshall Jefferson,
Outsiders,
Don Cherry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Zeros,
Funkadelic,
The Searchers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sight & Sound,
Amon Düül II,
Nils Olav,
Jeru the Damaja,
Magma,
Aswad,
Minor Threat,
Aloha Tigers,
Index,
Skriet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Johnny Osbourne,
Drexciya,
Sex Pistols,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Icehouse,
The Human League,
Glenn Branca,
Monks,
Can,
Bronski Beat,
X-102,
Pet Shop Boys,
Loose Ends,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.