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 United States and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Jeff Lynne to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 City Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Oblivians,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boredoms,
Los Fastidios,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gang Green,
Ossler,
Mars,
The Doors,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Blossom Toes,
Quando Quango,
Moebius,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Real Kids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Germs,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pagans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sam Rivers,
The Seeds,
Nick Fraelich,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Byron Stingily,
Moss Icon,
Visage,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Birthday Party,
Derrick May,
Jeff Mills,
Frankie Knuckles,
New York Dolls,
Franke,
PIL,
Marine Girls,
Porter Ricks,
The Gories,
Robert Görl,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bizarre Inc.,
David Bowie,
One Last Wish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roger Hodgson,
Swans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Lydon,
Lungfish,
The Buckinghams,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bluetip,
Arthur Verocai,
Fat Boys,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ludus,
The Count Five,
Mr. Review,
Joe Smooth,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.