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 Paraguay and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Holger Czukay 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 Barrington Levy to the rock 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
the Slits,
Tubeway Army,
Angry Samoans,
Aswad,
Duran Duran,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wasted Youth,
Mark Hollis,
Alice Coltrane,
Delon & Dalcan,
Joe Finger,
Magazine,
Pere Ubu,
John Cale,
Groovy Waters,
James White and The Blacks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Skatalites,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Letta Mbulu,
Rufus Thomas,
Cybotron,
Das Ding,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rod Modell,
Liliput,
X-101,
L. Decosne,
Bush Tetras,
Mo-Dettes,
Mad Mike,
Hashim,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wolf Eyes,
Judy Mowatt,
The Searchers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ten City,
Moby Grape,
Erasure,
Sound Behaviour,
Depeche Mode,
Scientists,
New Age Steppers,
Buzzcocks,
Easy Going,
Boz Scaggs,
Pussy Galore,
The Misunderstood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Freddie Wadling,
Deadbeat,
Matthew Bourne,
David Axelrod,
Nils Olav,
Audionom,
Swell Maps,
Brick,
Andrew Hill,
A Certain Ratio,
The Martian,
Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec, Pantytec.
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.