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 Palau and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Jacques Brel to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Soul II Soul,
The Beau Brummels,
Dave Gahan,
The Mummies,
Wire,
Aural Exciters,
Lungfish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Alice Coltrane,
Wasted Youth,
Davy DMX,
Reagan Youth,
Gong,
OOIOO,
Eric Dolphy,
Underground Resistance,
the Fania All-Stars,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Swans,
48th St. Collective,
Soulsonic Force,
Byron Stingily,
Mars,
Lou Reed,
Soft Cell,
Albert Ayler,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scott Walker,
Malaria!,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Blake Baxter,
Sarah Menescal,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Seeds,
Ken Boothe,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Absolute Body Control,
The Cramps,
Warsaw,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Zeros,
John Foxx,
Alton Ellis,
The Pretty Things,
Man Parrish,
Surgeon,
Cal Tjader,
Scratch Acid,
China Crisis,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Peter & Gordon,
Scrapy,
Ponytail,
Kurtis Blow,
X-Ray Spex,
A Certain Ratio,
Zero Boys,
Bad Manners,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.