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 Romania and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Germs. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Fear,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Trojans,
Fugazi,
Cecil Taylor,
Barclay James Harvest,
Peter and Kerry,
Bob Dylan,
New Order,
Wally Richardson,
The Black Dice,
June of 44,
Derrick May,
Scion,
Pantytec,
Drexciya,
Fela Kuti,
Black Moon,
Loose Ends,
Joe Smooth,
Dave Gahan,
T.S.O.L.,
The Young Rascals,
Tears for Fears,
The Gories,
Terrestrial Tones,
Grey Daturas,
The Sound,
Mantronix,
John Lydon,
Kurtis Blow,
the Germs,
D'Angelo,
Tomorrow,
Ornette Coleman,
10cc,
X-102,
The Fire Engines,
Moebius,
Lucky Dragons,
Schoolly D,
Ponytail,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Smiths,
Black Bananas,
Altered Images,
The Gladiators,
Quando Quango,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Josef K,
Wasted Youth,
Darondo,
The Neon Judgement,
Pole,
Shuggie Otis,
Faraquet,
Jerry's Kids,
Hardrive,
Bill Near,
Don Cherry,
a-ha,
Rod Modell,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.