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 Kyrgyzstan and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba 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 Gang of Four to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Wake. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Slick Rick,
Underground Resistance,
Can,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nation of Ulysses,
Qualms,
Ultimate Spinach,
Harmonia,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kool Moe Dee,
The Leaves,
The Human League,
Soft Cell,
Vainqueur,
Freddie Wadling,
The Modern Lovers,
Godley & Creme,
Glenn Branca,
Camouflage,
Black Moon,
Yusef Lateef,
Skriet,
Joe Finger,
Avey Tare,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Monks,
Marine Girls,
Crime,
Arcadia,
The Mojo Men,
The Invisible,
Theoretical Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Soft Cell,
Pagans,
Nirvana,
Dave Gahan,
Yellowson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Blancmange,
One Last Wish,
Arab on Radar,
The Buckinghams,
Jacques Brel,
Heaven 17,
James White and The Blacks,
Minutemen,
The Angels of Light,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Hot Snakes,
Ohio Players,
Pylon,
Leonard Cohen,
Youth Brigade,
Symarip,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mark Hollis,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Blossom Toes,
10cc, 10cc, 10cc, 10cc.
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.