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 Senegal and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kerri Chandler,
Wally Richardson,
Davy DMX,
Albert Ayler,
Tubeway Army,
June Days,
Byron Stingily,
Lee Hazlewood,
Nick Fraelich,
The Knickerbockers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brick,
The Gladiators,
Deakin,
The Offenders,
Bauhaus,
Suburban Knight,
Monolake,
Nirvana,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Desert Stars,
Blake Baxter,
Eli Mardock,
CMW,
Warsaw,
Girls At Our Best!,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jerry's Kids,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Moon,
The Litter,
Ponytail,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bobby Byrd,
Sarah Menescal,
Mars,
Fela Kuti,
Pere Ubu,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Reagan Youth,
Bad Manners,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Quando Quango,
Darondo,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eurythmics,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ornette Coleman,
The Vogues,
Stockholm Monsters,
Roxy Music,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Grass Roots,
Tim Buckley,
The Residents,
The Blues Magoos,
Sound Behaviour,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.