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 Pakistan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 Robert Wyatt to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Bananas,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Motions,
Radio Birdman,
Icehouse,
Heaven 17,
The Fire Engines,
Faust,
Television Personalities,
Khruangbin,
Slick Rick,
The Dead C,
Visage,
Nico,
Smog,
Glambeats Corp.,
Babytalk,
Panda Bear,
Bobby Womack,
Index,
The Pretty Things,
Chrome,
Soulsonic Force,
Delta 5,
New Age Steppers,
Easy Going,
Blake Baxter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Malaria!,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barbara Tucker,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Trojans,
The Offenders,
Quantec,
Dennis Brown,
The Gladiators,
Cheater Slicks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Black Dice,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Kinks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Underground Resistance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Animal Collective,
Swell Maps,
Depeche Mode,
Jacques Brel,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The J.B.'s,
Tommy Roe,
Eve St. Jones,
Television,
Half Japanese,
Carl Craig,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DNA,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.