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 Saudi Arabia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Visage to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Germs,
The Mojo Men,
Moebius,
Quantec,
E-Dancer,
Matthew Halsall,
Pierre Henry,
Scion,
Wally Richardson,
Mark Hollis,
Dead Boys,
Colin Newman,
Motorama,
Iggy Pop,
Scratch Acid,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Knickerbockers,
Cybotron,
Ice-T,
The Golliwogs,
Eric Copeland,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Unwound,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Byron Stingily,
JFA,
Henry Cow,
PIL,
Derrick May,
Grauzone,
The Stooges,
Magazine,
Joe Smooth,
The Star Department,
The Beau Brummels,
Dark Day,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Glenn Branca,
Patti Smith,
Infiniti,
The Modern Lovers,
The Seeds,
The Offenders,
The Names,
Erasure,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fear,
DNA,
Sun City Girls,
The Gap Band,
This Heat,
Sister Nancy,
Brass Construction,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
June of 44,
D'Angelo,
The Velvet Underground,
the Soft Cell,
Tom Boy,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.