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 Maldives and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Brass Construction to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pussy Galore,
Danielle Patucci,
The Young Rascals,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scott Walker,
Sixth Finger,
Ronan,
The Pop Group,
Robert Wyatt,
Sound Behaviour,
Sparks,
Amon Düül,
Robert Görl,
Delon & Dalcan,
Isaac Hayes,
Silicon Teens,
Tres Demented,
Morten Harket,
Oblivians,
Black Sheep,
Andrew Hill,
Niagra,
Grauzone,
Faust,
Dead Boys,
Avey Tare,
The Techniques,
Terrestrial Tones,
Connie Case,
Josef K,
Black Moon,
The Gories,
Ludus,
The Human League,
Rekid,
Donald Byrd,
Lucky Dragons,
Pere Ubu,
The Busters,
Sun City Girls,
The Sound,
Rakim,
KRS-One,
Vladislav Delay,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Knickerbockers,
The Dead C,
Matthew Bourne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Moebius,
X-Ray Spex,
The Motions,
Susan Cadogan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Moody Blues,
Black Flag,
Severed Heads,
Cal Tjader,
These Immortal Souls,
Agitation Free,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.