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 Latvia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Donald Fagen 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 The Beau Brummels to the rock 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Roy Ayers,
Matthew Bourne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Flipper,
Barry Ungar,
Pantytec,
Eurythmics,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Gong,
The Busters,
Metal Thangz,
The Offenders,
Los Fastidios,
Interpol,
Black Flag,
Hashim,
Mission of Burma,
Khruangbin,
Royal Trux,
Fugazi,
Mars,
Accadde A,
Circle Jerks,
Peter & Gordon,
Audionom,
Gichy Dan,
The Golliwogs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wally Richardson,
Derrick Morgan,
Robert Wyatt,
The Selecter,
Lalann,
Camouflage,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
La Düsseldorf,
The Alarm Clocks,
Joy Division,
cv313,
H. Thieme,
Severed Heads,
The Blues Magoos,
Kenny Larkin,
Alice Coltrane,
Godley & Creme,
Eden Ahbez,
The Dead C,
Von Mondo,
Derrick May,
June Days,
X-101,
X-Ray Spex,
Joyce Sims,
Max Romeo,
Kas Product,
The Neon Judgement,
Cecil Taylor,
The Electric Prunes,
The Monks,
Slave,
The Durutti Column,
The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges, The Stooges.
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.