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 El Salvador and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin 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 Harpers Bizarre to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Dual Sessions,
Neil Young,
The Zeros,
The Buckinghams,
Swell Maps,
Kurtis Blow,
The Invisible,
The Residents,
Hardrive,
Technova,
Ronan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rapeman,
Procol Harum,
Magazine,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Grass Roots,
Jerry's Kids,
Minnie Riperton,
Mandrill,
DJ Sneak,
The Seeds,
Avey Tare,
Freddie Wadling,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pole,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
AZ,
The Gun Club,
Nik Kershaw,
The Skatalites,
John Lydon,
Derrick May,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Fuzztones,
a-ha,
Public Enemy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scratch Acid,
The Happenings,
Niagra,
A Certain Ratio,
Infiniti,
Warsaw,
The Selecter,
Brick,
Danielle Patucci,
Ken Boothe,
The Misunderstood,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tomorrow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Altered Images,
Stiv Bators,
Donald Byrd,
Sun Ra,
Anakelly,
Sound Behaviour,
Little Man,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.