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 Switzerland and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Throbbing Gristle to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Bootsy Collins,
Outsiders,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Flag,
Adolescents,
Amon Düül,
Kayak,
Unwound,
The Dead C,
Patti Smith,
The Residents,
Sparks,
Organ,
Eve St. Jones,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eric Dolphy,
Clear Light,
Kerri Chandler,
Delta 5,
Mad Mike,
Sam Rivers,
Trumans Water,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
U.S. Maple,
Letta Mbulu,
Pussy Galore,
the Bar-Kays,
Television Personalities,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bizarre Inc.,
Make Up,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
June Days,
Vladislav Delay,
Magazine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Toni Rubio,
Mars,
Scientists,
The Smoke,
Jandek,
MC5,
Ronan,
D'Angelo,
The Martian,
Lyres,
Grauzone,
Bang On A Can,
Main Source,
Camouflage,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nico,
Curtis Mayfield,
Monks,
The Cowsills,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.