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 Tajikistan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the disco 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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Quantec,
Laurel Aitken,
The Monochrome Set,
Sex Pistols,
Black Bananas,
Scientists,
Suburban Knight,
Marcia Griffiths,
Stockholm Monsters,
Babytalk,
the Swans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Mummies,
The American Breed,
Ash Ra Tempel,
June of 44,
FM Einheit,
Chris & Cosey,
OOIOO,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Prince Buster,
Popol Vuh,
Pere Ubu,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lindisfarne,
The Cramps,
The Monks,
Essential Logic,
Dark Day,
Yaz,
Cluster,
Lee Hazlewood,
One Last Wish,
Jandek,
Severed Heads,
New York Dolls,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Gang Dance,
Derrick Morgan,
Wasted Youth,
Fela Kuti,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ultra Naté,
Erasure,
The Residents,
Dead Boys,
The Skatalites,
The Fuzztones,
Country Teasers,
the Normal,
The Neon Judgement,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Soft Machine,
T.S.O.L.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Black Flag,
Radio Birdman,
Nico,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.