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 Ukraine and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the dance 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlback record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
The Grass Roots,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Swell Maps,
John Lydon,
Spoonie Gee,
Scion,
Cheater Slicks,
Wire,
Joe Finger,
Gichy Dan,
Pierre Henry,
Agent Orange,
The American Breed,
Pylon,
World's Most,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tres Demented,
Joy Division,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scientists,
Visage,
Howard Jones,
The Cure,
Patti Smith,
Tomorrow,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Hasil Adkins,
Yazoo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Joe Smooth,
Motorama,
New Order,
Von Mondo,
Ultravox,
Cameo,
The Residents,
The Barracudas,
Alice Coltrane,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Associates,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tears for Fears,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gastr Del Sol,
Davy DMX,
the Human League,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sugar Minott,
U.S. Maple,
In Retrospect,
The Litter,
Pole,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.