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 Brunei and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 The Kinks to the electroclash 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Bourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Con Funk Shun,
Joy Division,
Wasted Youth,
Prince Buster,
The Fire Engines,
June Days,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
the Swans,
Barbara Tucker,
Siglo XX,
Grauzone,
Malaria!,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Can,
Toni Rubio,
T. Rex,
Connie Case,
Stetsasonic,
The Associates,
Los Fastidios,
Tomorrow,
Reagan Youth,
Aloha Tigers,
These Immortal Souls,
Ice-T,
Michelle Simonal,
Altered Images,
Johnny Osbourne,
The J.B.'s,
The Dave Clark Five,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Glambeats Corp.,
Deepchord,
Niagra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Wire,
Harmonia,
Monks,
Pere Ubu,
Laurel Aitken,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Adolescents,
The Angels of Light,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Essential Logic,
Minor Threat,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Erasure,
Charles Mingus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Franke,
Bush Tetras,
ABC,
Eurythmics,
Gregory Isaacs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gichy Dan,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five.
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.