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 Liberia and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 David Bowie 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 Aloha Tigers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Gories,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cal Tjader,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gabor Szabo,
Electric Prunes,
Sällskapet,
Iggy Pop,
Max Romeo,
ABC,
Eddi Front,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fortunes,
Boz Scaggs,
Peter and Kerry,
Sparks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sister Nancy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Christie,
Blake Baxter,
Eric Copeland,
Agent Orange,
Buzzcocks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Happenings,
AZ,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Arthur Verocai,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wings,
Stetsasonic,
Ohio Players,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Womack,
Ornette Coleman,
The Toasters,
Danielle Patucci,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yaz,
Jandek,
Howard Jones,
Panda Bear,
Tears for Fears,
Brothers Johnson,
The Mojo Men,
Fluxion,
Q and Not U,
Oneida,
Trumans Water,
Public Enemy,
Yellowson,
Mark Hollis,
Skarface,
Tres Demented,
48th St. Collective,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.