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 Cuba and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Judy Mowatt to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Velvet Underground,
Moss Icon,
Surgeon,
Judy Mowatt,
The Zeros,
Kerrie Biddell,
The J.B.'s,
Spandau Ballet,
Gregory Isaacs,
10cc,
Mission of Burma,
The Pretty Things,
A Certain Ratio,
The Golliwogs,
Absolute Body Control,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Smiths,
Underground Resistance,
Glenn Branca,
The Motions,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fuzztones,
Second Layer,
Banda Bassotti,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kas Product,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
One Last Wish,
the Slits,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gladiators,
Eurythmics,
The Sound,
Pagans,
New Age Steppers,
H. Thieme,
Anakelly,
Youth Brigade,
Supertramp,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cameo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ossler,
Jandek,
Agent Orange,
Wasted Youth,
Scrapy,
Scan 7,
Donald Byrd,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mad Mike,
Minny Pops,
John Cale,
Metal Thangz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The American Breed,
Black Pus,
Rosa Yemen,
Zapp,
Schoolly D,
U.S. Maple,
Masters at Work,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.