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 Malawi and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scan 7 to the techno 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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Unwound,
Crime,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lou Reed,
The Fall,
Simply Red,
The Remains,
Jesper Dahlback,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Monks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Real Kids,
Franke,
EPMD,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Television Personalities,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bronski Beat,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Angels of Light,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Aswad,
T. Rex,
Sun Ra,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Moon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Index,
Crooked Eye,
Al Stewart,
Eurythmics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Music Machine,
Dual Sessions,
Malaria!,
Royal Trux,
ABC,
Camouflage,
Adolescents,
Boz Scaggs,
Ultravox,
Aaron Thompson,
ABBA,
Talk Talk,
10cc,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bill Near,
Roxy Music,
Shuggie Otis,
MDC,
DNA,
Stereo Dub,
Mandrill,
Roxette,
Janne Schatter,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.