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 Vietnam and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minutemen to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Graham Central Station,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Laurel Aitken,
Sex Pistols,
a-ha,
Ituana,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Fania All-Stars,
Brothers Johnson,
Roger Hodgson,
Donny Hathaway,
The Young Rascals,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lower 48,
Sparks,
Gang of Four,
In Retrospect,
Erykah Badu,
Pierre Henry,
Rotary Connection,
Pantaleimon,
Ossler,
World's Most,
Ultimate Spinach,
Essential Logic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Trumans Water,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Martian,
Tommy Roe,
Sight & Sound,
Erasure,
Curtis Mayfield,
Moby Grape,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sandy B,
Pole,
Minny Pops,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Kayak,
Schoolly D,
Metal Thangz,
A Certain Ratio,
Neu!,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crime,
the Bar-Kays,
Amon Düül II,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Durutti Column,
Qualms,
Popol Vuh,
Circle Jerks,
Sun Ra,
The Mighty Diamonds,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.