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 Suriname and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
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 harpsichord 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 David Bowie to the punk 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeff Mills,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lalann,
Ornette Coleman,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kayak,
Trumans Water,
Pagans,
Angry Samoans,
Kas Product,
Young Marble Giants,
The Associates,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Index,
Ralphi Rosario,
Avey Tare,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Radio Birdman,
The Residents,
Michelle Simonal,
Flipper,
Bobby Sherman,
Kenny Larkin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Metal Thangz,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Blues Magoos,
R.M.O.,
Dennis Brown,
Josef K,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Offenders,
Shuggie Otis,
Flash Fearless,
Crooked Eye,
The Pop Group,
A Certain Ratio,
Chris Corsano,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cameo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Whodini,
Jerry's Kids,
Lindisfarne,
Barbara Tucker,
Fluxion,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ponytail,
the Human League,
The Beau Brummels,
Main Source,
Deepchord,
John Holt,
Subhumans,
Stetsasonic,
Girls At Our Best!,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Doors,
Henry Cow,
AZ,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.