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 Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Albert Ayler 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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
Pere Ubu,
Donald Byrd,
Scott Walker,
Absolute Body Control,
Reuben Wilson,
Gong,
Gang Starr,
ABC,
Camouflage,
Loose Ends,
The Litter,
Joensuu 1685,
Stockholm Monsters,
Swans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Peter and Kerry,
Rosa Yemen,
Crash Course in Science,
PIL,
Joy Division,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Slits,
Smog,
Country Joe & The Fish,
David Axelrod,
Suburban Knight,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Boogie Down Productions,
Massinfluence,
Minnie Riperton,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Human League,
Ultra Naté,
World's Most,
Wally Richardson,
Soul II Soul,
Sparks,
Country Teasers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
JFA,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
DNA,
Public Image Ltd.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bootsy Collins,
Wasted Youth,
Unwound,
Man Parrish,
China Crisis,
Severed Heads,
Moby Grape,
the Fania All-Stars,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Foxx,
Deepchord,
Tommy Roe,
The New Christs,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.