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 Cameroon and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Paris.
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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Sound to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Tears for Fears,
Section 25,
Silicon Teens,
Donny Hathaway,
Barry Ungar,
Glenn Branca,
Ultravox,
Monolake,
the Sonics,
CMW,
Idris Muhammad,
Faraquet,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Selecter,
Procol Harum,
Fatback Band,
Pantytec,
Alton Ellis,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fear,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Danielle Patucci,
Technova,
Scratch Acid,
Youth Brigade,
Scan 7,
Lungfish,
Cluster,
These Immortal Souls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Urselle,
Television Personalities,
Warsaw,
Neu!,
Rufus Thomas,
The Electric Prunes,
Deepchord,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sound Behaviour,
Whodini,
Skarface,
Bauhaus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ice-T,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Zeros,
Fela Kuti,
Malaria!,
Harry Pussy,
Wally Richardson,
the Germs,
Aural Exciters,
Roy Ayers,
Magma,
In Retrospect,
the Slits,
The Saints,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Brothers Johnson,
Arthur Verocai,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.