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 Croatia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Donald Fagen 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 Barbara Tucker to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ken Boothe,
Joe Finger,
Brothers Johnson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Delta 5,
Kaleidoscope,
R.M.O.,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Livin' Joy,
T. Rex,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dawn Penn,
The Fugs,
Mo-Dettes,
The Leaves,
Jandek,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June of 44,
James White and The Blacks,
The Moleskins,
Parry Music,
Bronski Beat,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Durutti Column,
Fatback Band,
Q and Not U,
Barbara Tucker,
Los Fastidios,
The Vogues,
Smog,
The Doors,
Godley & Creme,
Quadrant,
The Remains,
Liliput,
Carl Craig,
Nirvana,
This Heat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sandy B,
The Victims,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Adolescents,
John Cale,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Babytalk,
Shuggie Otis,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Slits,
Massinfluence,
The Electric Prunes,
Hot Snakes,
Thompson Twins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Human League,
The Count Five,
Steve Hackett,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Make Up,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.