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 Mauritania and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Michael McDonald 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 Jeff Mills to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Davy DMX 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?
Bronski Beat,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Music Machine,
Black Bananas,
Jeff Mills,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Remains,
Tears for Fears,
Shoche,
Rufus Thomas,
Shuggie Otis,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cramps,
The Stooges,
The J.B.'s,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Depeche Mode,
The Blues Magoos,
Kaleidoscope,
Motorama,
Dorothy Ashby,
Reuben Wilson,
Oblivians,
Subhumans,
Excepter,
Cal Tjader,
Eddi Front,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marshall Jefferson,
In Retrospect,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alice Coltrane,
Chris Corsano,
Rosa Yemen,
Man Eating Sloth,
Spoonie Gee,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Divine Comedy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jawbox,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Red Krayola,
Sarah Menescal,
Aaron Thompson,
Chrome,
Laurel Aitken,
The Busters,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Symarip,
New Order,
Fatback Band,
Intrusion,
Vladislav Delay,
Donny Hathaway,
Ken Boothe,
Q65,
Sexual Harrassment,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.