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 Malta and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Thompson Twins to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Bauhaus,
Slick Rick,
Goldenarms,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Electric Prunes,
EPMD,
Depeche Mode,
Glambeats Corp.,
Agitation Free,
Hashim,
Dual Sessions,
The Searchers,
Mars,
Flash Fearless,
Swans,
The Angels of Light,
The Residents,
Moss Icon,
Piero Umiliani,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Bar-Kays,
Severed Heads,
The Count Five,
Subhumans,
Scott Walker,
Zero Boys,
Joensuu 1685,
UT,
Derrick May,
Mo-Dettes,
Freddie Wadling,
Public Enemy,
Make Up,
Yellowson,
Cameo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Au Pairs,
Rakim,
Sonic Youth,
Con Funk Shun,
John Coltrane,
Banda Bassotti,
Grey Daturas,
Deepchord,
Mission of Burma,
Television,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Arthur Verocai,
James White and The Blacks,
Lee Hazlewood,
Todd Rundgren,
Radio Birdman,
LL Cool J,
La Düsseldorf,
Quantec,
The Fugs,
Dennis Brown,
The Monks,
The Gladiators,
Symarip,
DJ Sneak,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.