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 Nicaragua 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Audionom to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Japan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Con Funk Shun,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Womack,
Sonny Sharrock,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Wake,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marc Almond,
Make Up,
Oneida,
Terry Callier,
The American Breed,
Soft Machine,
Von Mondo,
Intrusion,
Guru Guru,
Spoonie Gee,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Michelle Simonal,
Mars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Organ,
The Zeros,
Anthony Braxton,
Hot Snakes,
the Germs,
Robert Görl,
The Barracudas,
The Last Poets,
Pussy Galore,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cowsills,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Monks,
Whodini,
Can,
Jacob Miller,
Yaz,
Wally Richardson,
Boz Scaggs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roy Ayers,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Holt,
Yellowson,
The Golliwogs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Popol Vuh,
Kaleidoscope,
Y Pants,
Swans,
Das Ding,
The Human League,
Eddi Front,
Spandau Ballet,
Flipper,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.