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 Uruguay and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Copenhagen.
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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Faust to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Minor Threat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Alice Coltrane,
Arcadia,
Kas Product,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bauhaus,
Fela Kuti,
Japan,
Easy Going,
Country Teasers,
Roxette,
Letta Mbulu,
Darondo,
Patti Smith,
Guru Guru,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cowsills,
The Smoke,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hashim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Zapp,
The Fall,
Rufus Thomas,
The Angels of Light,
Don Cherry,
Yaz,
Fugazi,
Tres Demented,
Brand Nubian,
Black Moon,
Second Layer,
Yusef Lateef,
Trumans Water,
Joe Finger,
Unrelated Segments,
Laurel Aitken,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Wolf Eyes,
John Coltrane,
Lindisfarne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Agitation Free,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Connie Case,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Sonics,
Inner City,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aloha Tigers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bobby Byrd,
Funky Four + One,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lucky Dragons,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.