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 Tonga and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Remains to the electroclash 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Banda Bassotti,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
These Immortal Souls,
Blossom Toes,
Make Up,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sam Rivers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Niagra,
Yaz,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grandmaster Flash,
Freddie Wadling,
Josef K,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roger Hodgson,
Essential Logic,
Pussy Galore,
KRS-One,
Swans,
Bill Wells,
Pulsallama,
Bobby Sherman,
Barrington Levy,
Alice Coltrane,
Parry Music,
The Raincoats,
CMW,
Electric Prunes,
Aloha Tigers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Model 500,
Jerry's Kids,
Sight & Sound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lungfish,
Ken Boothe,
Roy Ayers,
Icehouse,
The Smiths,
Absolute Body Control,
Kurtis Blow,
John Coltrane,
Tres Demented,
Siglo XX,
The New Christs,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Eli Mardock,
Camouflage,
Avey Tare,
Newcleus,
Suburban Knight,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bad Manners,
Excepter,
Yusef Lateef,
Gang Starr,
The Smoke,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.