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 Rwanda and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Average White Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Moon,
Masters at Work,
The Seeds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Henry Cow,
Mars,
Ultimate Spinach,
Icehouse,
These Immortal Souls,
Bob Dylan,
Television,
L. Decosne,
Mad Mike,
Chrome,
Roxette,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Trojans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Japan,
Grey Daturas,
The Names,
DJ Style,
Camberwell Now,
Jerry's Kids,
Morten Harket,
Donald Byrd,
Excepter,
Guru Guru,
The J.B.'s,
Crispian St. Peters,
Circle Jerks,
The Dead C,
The Move,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Byrd,
June of 44,
The Offenders,
Lower 48,
Severed Heads,
the Swans,
Marvin Gaye,
Bauhaus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Brick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ultra Naté,
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Womack,
OOIOO,
Audionom,
Hoover,
Andrew Hill,
Lyres,
The Last Poets,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Anthony Braxton,
Skriet,
Reuben Wilson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.