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 Benin and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sight & Sound to the techno 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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Zapp,
Newcleus,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tomorrow,
Siglo XX,
Quadrant,
Guru Guru,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Slits,
Spandau Ballet,
Boogie Down Productions,
L. Decosne,
Ken Boothe,
Stiv Bators,
Scott Walker,
The Kinks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
A Certain Ratio,
Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Marc Almond,
Cameo,
Scientists,
The Moleskins,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Minutemen,
Peter and Kerry,
Livin' Joy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Swell Maps,
Reuben Wilson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Slick Rick,
Excepter,
Derrick Morgan,
Ultra Naté,
Letta Mbulu,
Nas,
Marmalade,
Magazine,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Warsaw,
Morten Harket,
Niagra,
Porter Ricks,
Ice-T,
The Selecter,
Eli Mardock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pussy Galore,
Infiniti,
The Techniques,
Brothers Johnson,
Skaos,
Alphaville,
Barbara Tucker,
Crispian St. Peters,
Suicide,
Boredoms,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.