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 Bahamas and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Beijing.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 E-Dancer to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Wally Richardson,
Roy Ayers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pere Ubu,
These Immortal Souls,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Malaria!,
X-Ray Spex,
James White and The Blacks,
Pylon,
The Fall,
Roxy Music,
Iggy Pop,
Make Up,
Isaac Hayes,
the Swans,
Lucky Dragons,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Sheep,
Sex Pistols,
Clear Light,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Tremeloes,
Dave Gahan,
Hashim,
Minutemen,
Mad Mike,
Parry Music,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Supertramp,
Gang Green,
Tom Boy,
Stetsasonic,
Joey Negro,
Public Enemy,
Pole,
Fugazi,
Quadrant,
Royal Trux,
The Happenings,
Rhythm & Sound,
Deakin,
Eden Ahbez,
The Doobie Brothers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Mo-Dettes,
Donny Hathaway,
Franke,
The Human League,
Jawbox,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Knickerbockers,
Trumans Water,
Minny Pops,
Young Marble Giants,
David Axelrod,
Monks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Arcadia,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.