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 East Timor and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Alice Coltrane to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Aswad,
Icehouse,
DNA,
ABC,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Foxx,
The Slits,
Sugar Minott,
Harry Pussy,
Slick Rick,
Severed Heads,
Faust,
Tom Boy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joy Division,
Anakelly,
The Pretty Things,
Das Ding,
Aural Exciters,
Unwound,
Reagan Youth,
EPMD,
Franke,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Cowsills,
Robert Hood,
The Raincoats,
Quantec,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hashim,
Organ,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scientists,
Pole,
The Cramps,
Depeche Mode,
Connie Case,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lungfish,
Mo-Dettes,
H. Thieme,
L. Decosne,
Lightning Bolt,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Modern Lovers,
Sandy B,
Gang Starr,
Khruangbin,
Fela Kuti,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roxy Music,
Angry Samoans,
Soul II Soul,
Popol Vuh,
The Seeds,
Letta Mbulu,
Warren Ellis,
the Soft Cell,
Dark Day,
John Lydon,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.