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 Nauru and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 DNA to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
The Dead C,
Howard Jones,
Make Up,
Jerry's Kids,
Pole,
Amon Düül II,
The Golliwogs,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pere Ubu,
Tres Demented,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Susan Cadogan,
Black Flag,
Electric Prunes,
Ten City,
Erasure,
The Fire Engines,
Mary Jane Girls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Outsiders,
Brass Construction,
Moby Grape,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bootsy Collins,
Matthew Halsall,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Wyatt,
The Neon Judgement,
Sällskapet,
Reuben Wilson,
Sarah Menescal,
Radio Birdman,
Neu!,
Davy DMX,
Cameo,
Lou Christie,
The Skatalites,
Youth Brigade,
Joensuu 1685,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ituana,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gastr Del Sol,
Absolute Body Control,
Man Eating Sloth,
Patti Smith,
Sonny Sharrock,
Archie Shepp,
Prince Buster,
The United States of America,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rakim,
Icehouse,
Ken Boothe,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pussy Galore,
Procol Harum,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.