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 Estonia and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Robert Palmer 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
The Durutti Column,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Birthday Party,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Kinks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Masters at Work,
A Certain Ratio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lebanon Hanover,
Alice Coltrane,
The Red Krayola,
Arab on Radar,
John Holt,
Ten City,
Deakin,
The Dirtbombs,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Searchers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Glenn Branca,
The Last Poets,
Little Man,
The Move,
48th St. Collective,
Joe Finger,
Sound Behaviour,
Fatback Band,
The Golliwogs,
Blossom Toes,
Das Ding,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grauzone,
the Slits,
Gabor Szabo,
Tres Demented,
Metal Thangz,
Symarip,
Bob Dylan,
Patti Smith,
Reagan Youth,
Cameo,
Cecil Taylor,
the Association,
Janne Schatter,
Tommy Roe,
Severed Heads,
Maleditus Sound,
The Mojo Men,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Chris & Cosey,
The Count Five,
Dead Boys,
EPMD,
Schoolly D,
John Cale,
Flash Fearless,
Pere Ubu,
Isaac Hayes,
Soul II Soul,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.