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 Brazil and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Nils Olav to the electroclash 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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Groovy Waters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Spandau Ballet,
Scion,
Moss Icon,
Jeff Lynne,
Little Man,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pussy Galore,
Scratch Acid,
Soft Cell,
a-ha,
Pylon,
Rapeman,
Lindisfarne,
Sonny Sharrock,
H. Thieme,
Jandek,
Warsaw,
Mo-Dettes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Move,
Sandy B,
KRS-One,
Matthew Halsall,
8 Eyed Spy,
Chrome,
Ken Boothe,
Swell Maps,
Scrapy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aloha Tigers,
Charles Mingus,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Zapp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quantec,
Hoover,
The Litter,
Amon Düül,
Oblivians,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hasil Adkins,
Swans,
Funkadelic,
Accadde A,
The Five Americans,
Goldenarms,
The Velvet Underground,
Urselle,
Icehouse,
Joy Division,
Black Bananas,
X-102,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Archie Shepp,
The Fuzztones,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Royal Trux,
Grey Daturas,
Model 500,
the Swans,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.