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 Iraq and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin 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 Wasted Youth to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Donny Hathaway,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mr. Review,
Bill Wells,
Scott Walker,
Guru Guru,
Cymande,
Jacob Miller,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sight & Sound,
Rekid,
Minutemen,
New Age Steppers,
H. Thieme,
Lakeside,
Nik Kershaw,
Minnie Riperton,
DNA,
The Mojo Men,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Absolute Body Control,
Fugazi,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Wake,
Icehouse,
Lucky Dragons,
Ohio Players,
Faraquet,
L. Decosne,
The Motions,
Toni Rubio,
Sound Behaviour,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Yusef Lateef,
The Smoke,
Stetsasonic,
Bang On A Can,
ABC,
The Smiths,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Make Up,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nirvana,
Fela Kuti,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
KRS-One,
Eden Ahbez,
the Sonics,
Tears for Fears,
Ludus,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Minny Pops,
Agitation Free,
Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis, Oppenheimer Analysis.
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.