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 Australia and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Symarip 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Dawn Penn,
Liliput,
Gong,
Bluetip,
Derrick Morgan,
Lou Christie,
Basic Channel,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dave Gahan,
Reuben Wilson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Mummies,
The Beau Brummels,
The Modern Lovers,
The Monks,
Blake Baxter,
Siglo XX,
Banda Bassotti,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
UT,
Accadde A,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Todd Terry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bobby Womack,
Mandrill,
The Saints,
Q and Not U,
The Slits,
Byron Stingily,
Lower 48,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brothers Johnson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mars,
Motorama,
Qualms,
Sex Pistols,
Darondo,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
48th St. Collective,
Stetsasonic,
The Index,
Michelle Simonal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Boogie Down Productions,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultra Naté,
Heaven 17,
Pere Ubu,
Janne Schatter,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Altered Images,
the Sonics,
Sixth Finger,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Morten Harket,
Thompson Twins,
DJ Style,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kenny Larkin,
Tim Buckley,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.