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 Luxembourg and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kenny Larkin to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Delon & Dalcan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Josef K,
Surgeon,
Thee Headcoats,
the Germs,
Steve Hackett,
Sixth Finger,
Nation of Ulysses,
T.S.O.L.,
Davy DMX,
Barbara Tucker,
Joe Finger,
Rekid,
Babytalk,
The Skatalites,
Youth Brigade,
Swans,
Theoretical Girls,
T. Rex,
Bobby Byrd,
The Misunderstood,
Chris & Cosey,
Yaz,
The Pretty Things,
48th St. Collective,
John Foxx,
the Normal,
Andrew Hill,
Donny Hathaway,
Bootsy Collins,
Mission of Burma,
Freddie Wadling,
Echospace,
John Coltrane,
The Cowsills,
The Victims,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Flesh Eaters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sandy B,
Eric Dolphy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Arcadia,
Lightning Bolt,
Kenny Larkin,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Smiths,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Martian,
Sällskapet,
Inner City,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dennis Brown,
The Barracudas,
Nils Olav,
Schoolly D,
Marine Girls,
Sex Pistols,
the Soft Cell,
Q65,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.