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 Egypt and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 8 Eyed Spy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dead C,
Easy Going,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Invisible,
The Cowsills,
Robert Görl,
Main Source,
Drive Like Jehu,
James White and The Blacks,
Cybotron,
Groovy Waters,
Procol Harum,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Electric Prunes,
Bluetip,
Cecil Taylor,
Panda Bear,
MC5,
The Index,
The Gun Club,
Das Ding,
Erykah Badu,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Audionom,
Donald Byrd,
Pylon,
Black Sheep,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Yusef Lateef,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nirvana,
The Barracudas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rosa Yemen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
June Days,
Jerry Gold Smith,
U.S. Maple,
Symarip,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Five Americans,
Blancmange,
Maurizio,
Arthur Verocai,
Ituana,
The Litter,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultimate Spinach,
Monks,
Country Teasers,
Little Man,
Cal Tjader,
Gong,
Howard Jones,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fortunes,
Pantaleimon,
Soulsonic Force,
The Stooges,
New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers, New Age Steppers.
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.