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 Germany and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Harpers Bizarre to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wire 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Eddi Front,
The Dead C,
DNA,
Scott Walker,
Gastr Del Sol,
Buzzcocks,
Fat Boys,
The Slits,
Pylon,
Todd Rundgren,
Eve St. Jones,
the Sonics,
Toni Rubio,
Wolf Eyes,
Funky Four + One,
Vladislav Delay,
cv313,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Grass Roots,
Rotary Connection,
Moby Grape,
The Wake,
Lyres,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Erasure,
Los Fastidios,
Supertramp,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bill Wells,
The Durutti Column,
D'Angelo,
The Walker Brothers,
Roger Hodgson,
The Last Poets,
Drexciya,
The Cure,
Amazonics,
Shuggie Otis,
Scratch Acid,
The Fortunes,
Reagan Youth,
Tears for Fears,
Thompson Twins,
The Sonics,
Peter & Gordon,
Icehouse,
H. Thieme,
Derrick May,
Pharoah Sanders,
James White and The Blacks,
Laurel Aitken,
Tom Boy,
Lakeside,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sällskapet,
The Searchers,
T. Rex,
Henry Cow,
Alton Ellis,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.