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 Seychelles and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator 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 Silicon Teens to the funk 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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Cymande,
Nas,
Talk Talk,
Toni Rubio,
The Doors,
John Coltrane,
UT,
Avey Tare,
Zapp,
Wally Richardson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jacques Brel,
Make Up,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Terry Callier,
Wasted Youth,
Bobby Byrd,
Ice-T,
The Buckinghams,
Boogie Down Productions,
Das Ding,
Barbara Tucker,
The Last Poets,
The Slits,
The Beau Brummels,
Alphaville,
The Moleskins,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jandek,
The Names,
The Gladiators,
MDC,
Marvin Gaye,
Qualms,
Warsaw,
Wings,
X-101,
Drive Like Jehu,
Brand Nubian,
Ultra Naté,
Henry Cow,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Liliput,
8 Eyed Spy,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Brass Construction,
Terrestrial Tones,
Johnny Clarke,
Lightning Bolt,
Ornette Coleman,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Icehouse,
Todd Rundgren,
E-Dancer,
Joy Division,
Sam Rivers,
Boz Scaggs,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Womack,
Model 500,
Tommy Roe,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.