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 Belgium and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Young Rascals to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Flipper,
The Pop Group,
Clear Light,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Victims,
Ponytail,
Susan Cadogan,
Rod Modell,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hot Snakes,
The Searchers,
Kerri Chandler,
The Sound,
The Fall,
Sight & Sound,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Trumans Water,
The Real Kids,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Sonics,
Eve St. Jones,
The Remains,
Q65,
The Divine Comedy,
Blossom Toes,
Charles Mingus,
Masters at Work,
Jerry Gold Smith,
John Foxx,
Tropical Tobacco,
Mark Hollis,
Leonard Cohen,
Delta 5,
Isaac Hayes,
Fat Boys,
Curtis Mayfield,
Patti Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Reuben Wilson,
Arab on Radar,
Juan Atkins,
Sällskapet,
Pierre Henry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joe Finger,
Porter Ricks,
Banda Bassotti,
Anthony Braxton,
Girls At Our Best!,
Radiopuhelimet,
Amon Düül II,
Public Enemy,
Essential Logic,
Minnie Riperton,
Danielle Patucci,
Stetsasonic,
Robert Hood,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.