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 New Zealand and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar 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 Black Pus to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Byrd 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
The Monks,
June of 44,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Country Teasers,
MC5,
Joy Division,
Marine Girls,
The Motions,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Joey Negro,
Saccharine Trust,
Aural Exciters,
Echospace,
Gang Green,
Lakeside,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gories,
Buzzcocks,
The Seeds,
Swans,
Tres Demented,
Absolute Body Control,
Pierre Henry,
Rosa Yemen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cecil Taylor,
Patti Smith,
La Düsseldorf,
Icehouse,
Q and Not U,
Ossler,
Soulsonic Force,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Donald Byrd,
John Holt,
Toni Rubio,
Aaron Thompson,
Wings,
Ice-T,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Pus,
Masters at Work,
Junior Murvin,
PIL,
The Fall,
10cc,
The Remains,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jandek,
Fela Kuti,
Sun City Girls,
New York Dolls,
Magazine,
Sight & Sound,
Sugar Minott,
Adolescents,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sällskapet,
The Move,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.