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 Indonesia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum 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 Detroit Cobras to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Zero Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Fortunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jawbox,
Theoretical Girls,
Blossom Toes,
Radio Birdman,
John Coltrane,
Yazoo,
Public Enemy,
H. Thieme,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Goldenarms,
The Doors,
ABC,
Skaos,
Icehouse,
the Soft Cell,
Sandy B,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Maleditus Sound,
Radiohead,
Cybotron,
Infiniti,
Black Bananas,
The Moleskins,
Marshall Jefferson,
Can,
Sound Behaviour,
the Swans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Blake Baxter,
Man Parrish,
Heaven 17,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Cale,
Lyres,
Supertramp,
Tom Boy,
Trumans Water,
Toni Rubio,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Prince Buster,
Harmonia,
Make Up,
The Raincoats,
Negative Approach,
Harpers Bizarre,
Isaac Hayes,
Charles Mingus,
Buzzcocks,
This Heat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Fugs,
Jacques Brel,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Connie Case,
Cymande,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Tomorrow,
The Knickerbockers,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.