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 Iraq and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ronan to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Ituana,
The Durutti Column,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Modern Lovers,
Neil Young,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mandrill,
48th St. Collective,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Suburban Knight,
Barry Ungar,
The Wake,
Flipper,
The Walker Brothers,
Talk Talk,
Roxette,
Josef K,
The Sonics,
Gang Gang Dance,
Anakelly,
Sex Pistols,
Don Cherry,
Hoover,
Young Marble Giants,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pylon,
The Victims,
Eric Copeland,
Matthew Halsall,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rotary Connection,
Simply Red,
Wally Richardson,
Erasure,
Roger Hodgson,
The Star Department,
Warren Ellis,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Sherman,
The Evens,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kas Product,
Jeff Mills,
B.T. Express,
Angry Samoans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kayak,
Johnny Osbourne,
Japan,
Hardrive,
The Mummies,
Grauzone,
It's A Beautiful Day,
PIL,
Schoolly D,
Marine Girls,
Soft Cell,
Sällskapet,
Lungfish,
Scott Walker,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.