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 Albania and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sexual Harrassment to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Quantec,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cheater Slicks,
Kayak,
Lakeside,
Negative Approach,
Cameo,
The Stooges,
John Coltrane,
Aswad,
Bizarre Inc.,
Arab on Radar,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Christie,
K-Klass,
Nirvana,
The Mummies,
Lungfish,
Graham Central Station,
Duran Duran,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Görl,
Max Romeo,
The Skatalites,
Unwound,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scratch Acid,
The Moody Blues,
Cybotron,
Jesper Dahlback,
Circle Jerks,
Yaz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Zapp,
Public Enemy,
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Y Pants,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sun City Girls,
Eli Mardock,
John Lydon,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marmalade,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eve St. Jones,
The Angels of Light,
T.S.O.L.,
Vladislav Delay,
Terry Callier,
Vainqueur,
the Swans,
Q65,
Letta Mbulu,
Das Ding,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.