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 Kuwait and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jeru the Damaja record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nick Fraelich,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Happenings,
Jeff Lynne,
Make Up,
Reuben Wilson,
Kevin Saunderson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
L. Decosne,
The Durutti Column,
Cecil Taylor,
Joy Division,
The Red Krayola,
Kurtis Blow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Evens,
Cymande,
Alison Limerick,
Symarip,
Fad Gadget,
The Slits,
Sandy B,
The Black Dice,
Graham Central Station,
PIL,
Peter and Kerry,
Bluetip,
Franke,
Leonard Cohen,
Mad Mike,
the Association,
Ornette Coleman,
Cameo,
Gichy Dan,
Kayak,
Popol Vuh,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Underground Resistance,
Aural Exciters,
Thompson Twins,
Fluxion,
Max Romeo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rod Modell,
Liliput,
Flash Fearless,
Lakeside,
Main Source,
Derrick May,
KRS-One,
Malaria!,
The Monochrome Set,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Moody Blues,
The Pretty Things,
Amazonics,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.