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 Estonia and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nico to the rock 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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Silicon Teens,
Icehouse,
Parry Music,
The Invisible,
Dual Sessions,
Eurythmics,
Delta 5,
Motorama,
FM Einheit,
Crispian St. Peters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Velvet Underground,
Lucky Dragons,
Black Bananas,
Nils Olav,
Don Cherry,
R.M.O.,
Drexciya,
Ornette Coleman,
Sister Nancy,
Tommy Roe,
Erykah Badu,
Pagans,
The Golliwogs,
a-ha,
Bluetip,
John Foxx,
Byron Stingily,
Nick Fraelich,
Bush Tetras,
The Misunderstood,
Pere Ubu,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Smoke,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fugs,
Glenn Branca,
Sun City Girls,
Joey Negro,
Mr. Review,
Sun Ra,
Faraquet,
Faust,
Public Enemy,
Juan Atkins,
The Kinks,
Graham Central Station,
Tim Buckley,
June Days,
The Litter,
The Black Dice,
Reuben Wilson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radiohead,
Frankie Knuckles,
Underground Resistance,
Zapp,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.