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 United States and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Boredoms to the techno 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Cramps,
Das Ding,
Piero Umiliani,
Y Pants,
Tom Boy,
The Move,
Don Cherry,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rapeman,
Chrome,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Minutemen,
Yaz,
Girls At Our Best!,
Magazine,
Shuggie Otis,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Barry Ungar,
Arcadia,
Trumans Water,
Isaac Hayes,
Bob Dylan,
Andrew Hill,
The J.B.'s,
Mary Jane Girls,
Robert Görl,
Joensuu 1685,
Visage,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nirvana,
Barclay James Harvest,
Shoche,
The Techniques,
The New Christs,
Stereo Dub,
Fat Boys,
Depeche Mode,
The Mojo Men,
Iggy Pop,
Parry Music,
Swell Maps,
Joy Division,
The Blackbyrds,
Jacob Miller,
The Raincoats,
Eli Mardock,
Hoover,
A Certain Ratio,
Sam Rivers,
Hot Snakes,
Al Stewart,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Smiths,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ossler,
Pole,
Wally Richardson,
Ultra Naté,
The Mummies,
Youth Brigade,
Bobby Sherman,
The Remains,
Scratch Acid,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.