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 Sudan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 synthesizer 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 Absolute Body Control to the punk 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Q65,
Aloha Tigers,
Moss Icon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Victims,
Angry Samoans,
Vladislav Delay,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grey Daturas,
Piero Umiliani,
Talk Talk,
Big Daddy Kane,
Y Pants,
Bush Tetras,
Fear,
Harpers Bizarre,
Boredoms,
Drive Like Jehu,
Colin Newman,
Cymande,
Excepter,
Al Stewart,
Stetsasonic,
Tres Demented,
Drexciya,
Harmonia,
Interpol,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dual Sessions,
Suicide,
R.M.O.,
The Beau Brummels,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Happenings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Godley & Creme,
Youth Brigade,
The Moody Blues,
ABBA,
X-Ray Spex,
Isaac Hayes,
Theoretical Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lindisfarne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Audionom,
Althea and Donna,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Cramps,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pantytec,
The Fall,
The Alarm Clocks,
Intrusion,
Porter Ricks,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.