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 Ethiopia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 synthesizer 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 Soft Cell to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Motions,
Essential Logic,
FM Einheit,
Moss Icon,
Simply Red,
The Offenders,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aural Exciters,
Young Marble Giants,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bobby Byrd,
Brick,
The Human League,
Organ,
Kaleidoscope,
Piero Umiliani,
Infiniti,
Television,
Nico,
Theoretical Girls,
Arab on Radar,
the Swans,
Pantytec,
Minutemen,
Fatback Band,
Davy DMX,
Mary Jane Girls,
Japan,
Outsiders,
Slave,
DJ Style,
Johnny Osbourne,
Arcadia,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grey Daturas,
Parry Music,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Germs,
Wally Richardson,
Black Bananas,
Bluetip,
Howard Jones,
Robert Görl,
Pylon,
Tommy Roe,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Agent Orange,
Mars,
The Smiths,
Bush Tetras,
Severed Heads,
Tubeway Army,
Index,
Ice-T,
KRS-One,
The Young Rascals,
10cc,
Janne Schatter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scrapy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.