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 Micronesia and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Avey Tare to the grunge 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca 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?
The Five Americans,
Tomorrow,
Flash Fearless,
Aloha Tigers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
kango's stein massive,
The Move,
Magazine,
Bluetip,
Ronan,
Eden Ahbez,
June of 44,
The Golliwogs,
Fela Kuti,
The Electric Prunes,
Danielle Patucci,
Gong,
Soulsonic Force,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Agent Orange,
Chris & Cosey,
The Saints,
The Modern Lovers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Dual Sessions,
X-Ray Spex,
Derrick May,
The Walker Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ituana,
Lower 48,
Aswad,
The Fugs,
Rotary Connection,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Intrusion,
Delon & Dalcan,
Slick Rick,
Eddi Front,
The Buckinghams,
Main Source,
Deakin,
X-102,
Clear Light,
Joe Finger,
Jerry's Kids,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cal Tjader,
Depeche Mode,
Country Teasers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bauhaus,
Quantec,
Lucky Dragons,
Harry Pussy,
Juan Atkins,
The Standells,
Essential Logic,
Blake Baxter,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.