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 Syria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Lightning Bolt to the punk 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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jandek record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Amon Düül II,
Pagans,
Pierre Henry,
K-Klass,
Zapp,
Glenn Branca,
Monks,
The Human League,
The Monochrome Set,
Bizarre Inc.,
Moss Icon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fugazi,
Little Man,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fat Boys,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bluetip,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pole,
Von Mondo,
The Trojans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Laurel Aitken,
Eric B and Rakim,
Magma,
Tom Boy,
Eve St. Jones,
Cecil Taylor,
Silicon Teens,
Dennis Brown,
Flipper,
Ronan,
Arab on Radar,
Tres Demented,
Eurythmics,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Harmonia,
This Heat,
Altered Images,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Aaron Thompson,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Selecter,
Graham Central Station,
The Gun Club,
Tomorrow,
Brothers Johnson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aswad,
John Lydon,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bob Dylan,
Jeff Lynne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Malaria!,
Flamin' Groovies,
Q and Not U,
Anthony Braxton,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.