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 Iceland and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet 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 Theoretical Girls to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 David McCallum. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Subhumans,
The Knickerbockers,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun City Girls,
The Smiths,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
E-Dancer,
Pharoah Sanders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gang of Four,
Vainqueur,
Soft Machine,
Pierre Henry,
Unwound,
Black Flag,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Mojo Men,
Mr. Review,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minnie Riperton,
The Dave Clark Five,
PIL,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gong,
Kerrie Biddell,
Intrusion,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Index,
Lalann,
Byron Stingily,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rapeman,
Roxette,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bauhaus,
Rosa Yemen,
Das Ding,
The Blackbyrds,
Procol Harum,
Jimmy McGriff,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sällskapet,
New York Dolls,
Interpol,
Todd Terry,
Steve Hackett,
Barry Ungar,
Janne Schatter,
Marmalade,
Wally Richardson,
David Axelrod,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Real Kids,
Stockholm Monsters,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.