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 Kenya and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 8 Eyed Spy 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Malaria!,
Faust,
Fear,
Roxette,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultravox,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jeff Lynne,
Little Man,
Crime,
Parry Music,
Desert Stars,
The Move,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
China Crisis,
Jacques Brel,
Pantaleimon,
UT,
One Last Wish,
Dead Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Zeros,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Smiths,
Swell Maps,
The Count Five,
The Invisible,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Liliput,
The Grass Roots,
Moby Grape,
Trumans Water,
Pulsallama,
Zero Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Bananas,
Yaz,
Quadrant,
Sun City Girls,
Chris Corsano,
Max Romeo,
Kayak,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pere Ubu,
Wire,
Cameo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
David Axelrod,
Blake Baxter,
The Cramps,
Pagans,
Eve St. Jones,
The Slackers,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.