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 Palau and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
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 synthesizer 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonic Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Pulsallama,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bad Manners,
Grauzone,
Marmalade,
Parry Music,
Silicon Teens,
Neil Young,
Judy Mowatt,
Robert Wyatt,
Pierre Henry,
The Walker Brothers,
Infiniti,
Suicide,
Max Romeo,
Inner City,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
48th St. Collective,
Lalann,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fatback Band,
FM Einheit,
Bill Near,
Nico,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sun City Girls,
The Evens,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Remains,
Minutemen,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Au Pairs,
Stiv Bators,
Yazoo,
Groovy Waters,
E-Dancer,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
X-Ray Spex,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Slick Rick,
Tears for Fears,
The Associates,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Patti Smith,
The Music Machine,
Soulsonic Force,
Leonard Cohen,
T.S.O.L.,
T. Rex,
Spoonie Gee,
UT,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Yellowson,
Jawbox,
Lou Christie,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.