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 Barbados and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Holger Czukay 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 Smoke to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marine Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Mad Mike,
Icehouse,
Hasil Adkins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Althea and Donna,
Rufus Thomas,
Henry Cow,
The Mojo Men,
The Leaves,
Soft Cell,
Siglo XX,
Infiniti,
Lee Hazlewood,
Con Funk Shun,
Hoover,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Gladiators,
Silicon Teens,
John Coltrane,
The Fall,
Suburban Knight,
The Offenders,
Cecil Taylor,
The Happenings,
Scrapy,
Marvin Gaye,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Smoke,
The Monochrome Set,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quantec,
Little Man,
Stockholm Monsters,
Juan Atkins,
Hashim,
Echospace,
Skaos,
Sound Behaviour,
Youth Brigade,
Q and Not U,
Tim Buckley,
Desert Stars,
Patti Smith,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Sound,
Howard Jones,
The Names,
Loose Ends,
Camouflage,
Neu!,
The Martian,
Bill Wells,
Anthony Braxton,
48th St. Collective,
Funkadelic,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.