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 Solomon Islands and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Quadrant to the punk 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Wings,
Deepchord,
Chris & Cosey,
Wolf Eyes,
Barrington Levy,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Enemy,
Unwound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Isaac Hayes,
Altered Images,
the Slits,
Roxette,
Joey Negro,
Make Up,
Anakelly,
Rufus Thomas,
The Moleskins,
L. Decosne,
Freddie Wadling,
The Neon Judgement,
Fat Boys,
Mandrill,
Albert Ayler,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Metal Thangz,
The Mojo Men,
Hot Snakes,
Reuben Wilson,
Graham Central Station,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Todd Rundgren,
Warren Ellis,
Talk Talk,
Lower 48,
Amon Düül II,
Josef K,
Radio Birdman,
John Foxx,
Intrusion,
Man Parrish,
Aural Exciters,
The Trojans,
Q65,
Mo-Dettes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Organ,
ABC,
U.S. Maple,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Electric Prunes,
Al Stewart,
The Smoke,
the Soft Cell,
PIL,
Silicon Teens,
The United States of America,
Bush Tetras,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.