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 Botswana and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 mellotron 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Scratch Acid,
Lakeside,
The Mummies,
Pylon,
Groovy Waters,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Brass Construction,
Depeche Mode,
Michelle Simonal,
The Monks,
The Sonics,
Sandy B,
DJ Sneak,
Surgeon,
Los Fastidios,
Cal Tjader,
Infiniti,
Severed Heads,
Blossom Toes,
John Foxx,
Dave Gahan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Bananas,
The Names,
Stetsasonic,
Liliput,
Model 500,
The Birthday Party,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Leonard Cohen,
Fad Gadget,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Echospace,
Soul Sonic Force,
Letta Mbulu,
JFA,
Gregory Isaacs,
Public Enemy,
Rod Modell,
Cybotron,
Junior Murvin,
Metal Thangz,
The Gories,
The Red Krayola,
Mantronix,
Steve Hackett,
The Shadows of Knight,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Royal Trux,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Detroit Cobras,
a-ha,
Shuggie Otis,
K-Klass,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Avey Tare,
X-101,
Angry Samoans,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.