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 Solomon Islands and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scratch Acid to the grunge 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Henry Cow,
Lee Hazlewood,
Groovy Waters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Soul Sonic Force,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Iggy Pop,
Banda Bassotti,
Monks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Happenings,
Barclay James Harvest,
Delon & Dalcan,
Massinfluence,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Human League,
Absolute Body Control,
Duran Duran,
the Swans,
Johnny Clarke,
DJ Style,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Slits,
Simply Red,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Crispy Ambulance,
Smog,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
a-ha,
Eric B and Rakim,
Todd Rundgren,
Grey Daturas,
Von Mondo,
Popol Vuh,
K-Klass,
The Gories,
Anakelly,
Procol Harum,
Derrick May,
JFA,
Technova,
Intrusion,
The Blackbyrds,
Amazonics,
Quando Quango,
The Moleskins,
Joe Finger,
Bauhaus,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Victims,
The Misunderstood,
Bad Manners,
Lakeside,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Robert Hood,
Livin' Joy,
Jacques Brel,
Sonic Youth,
The Sound,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.