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 Mongolia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 T.S.O.L. to the grime 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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Tim Buckley,
Donald Byrd,
Sparks,
Erykah Badu,
Cecil Taylor,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Icehouse,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Remains,
Nik Kershaw,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Shoche,
Eddi Front,
John Coltrane,
Carl Craig,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hoover,
Bang On A Can,
Scratch Acid,
E-Dancer,
Slave,
Matthew Bourne,
Circle Jerks,
The Selecter,
Rhythm & Sound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minnie Riperton,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kurtis Blow,
The Cramps,
Scrapy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Howard Jones,
The Seeds,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Kerri Chandler,
Toni Rubio,
the Slits,
Drexciya,
DJ Sneak,
Bobby Byrd,
Ken Boothe,
The Last Poets,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marine Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gun Club,
Althea and Donna,
Black Sheep,
The Dirtbombs,
The Divine Comedy,
Section 25,
Black Pus,
The Beau Brummels,
The Alarm Clocks,
Public Enemy,
Harry Pussy,
Hot Snakes,
China Crisis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.