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 Tajikistan and from Accra.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 synthesizer 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 Bootsy Collins to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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 Real Kids,
Barbara Tucker,
The Gladiators,
Hardrive,
The Fortunes,
The Music Machine,
The Fuzztones,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lou Christie,
the Slits,
Janne Schatter,
Joey Negro,
Pussy Galore,
World's Most,
Angry Samoans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Selecter,
Brothers Johnson,
Cecil Taylor,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kayak,
The Knickerbockers,
Groovy Waters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
B.T. Express,
Jeff Lynne,
Nik Kershaw,
Sight & Sound,
The Fugs,
Sex Pistols,
Amon Düül,
the Normal,
Magazine,
The Blues Magoos,
Idris Muhammad,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
June Days,
Peter & Gordon,
The J.B.'s,
Gang of Four,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Silicon Teens,
Derrick May,
Lindisfarne,
The Saints,
The Victims,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Walker Brothers,
Depeche Mode,
Fugazi,
In Retrospect,
Buzzcocks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soft Cell,
Country Teasers,
Whodini,
June of 44,
Sister Nancy,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.