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 Turkey and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Sex Pistols to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Scott Walker,
F. McDonald,
Soul II Soul,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Electric Prunes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Motorama,
Trumans Water,
The Beau Brummels,
Iggy Pop,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Young Rascals,
Parry Music,
Niagra,
Reagan Youth,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sonic Youth,
The Modern Lovers,
Tomorrow,
Moby Grape,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Human League,
Frankie Knuckles,
Mission of Burma,
Cal Tjader,
Fear,
MC5,
The Residents,
Fugazi,
Public Image Ltd.,
Archie Shepp,
Massinfluence,
the Soft Cell,
Roy Ayers,
Television Personalities,
Susan Cadogan,
OOIOO,
Terrestrial Tones,
Patti Smith,
Outsiders,
Nas,
Moebius,
Joe Smooth,
Erasure,
X-101,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Names,
Royal Trux,
Porter Ricks,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Knickerbockers,
Marmalade,
Rotary Connection,
The Fall,
The Alarm Clocks,
Freddie Wadling,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.