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 Libya and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Jakarta and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Warren Ellis to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Yazoo,
Buzzcocks,
Boz Scaggs,
Crime,
Harry Pussy,
Roy Ayers,
Sonic Youth,
Stiv Bators,
Crooked Eye,
New Order,
Silicon Teens,
Fatback Band,
Interpol,
Inner City,
The Leaves,
Rod Modell,
Arcadia,
Radiohead,
Minny Pops,
Stockholm Monsters,
Zero Boys,
Joensuu 1685,
Popol Vuh,
Soulsonic Force,
Grandmaster Flash,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Gang Dance,
Terrestrial Tones,
cv313,
Aloha Tigers,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Toasters,
Eli Mardock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Doobie Brothers,
Soft Machine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Girls At Our Best!,
ABBA,
Darondo,
Ten City,
The American Breed,
The Fortunes,
H. Thieme,
John Lydon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sex Pistols,
Infiniti,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pagans,
Crash Course in Science,
Kenny Larkin,
John Foxx,
Motorama,
Lower 48,
Blake Baxter,
James White and The Blacks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.