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 Cyprus and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 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 Derrick May to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Litter. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
World's Most,
Spandau Ballet,
David Bowie,
The Real Kids,
John Coltrane,
Scientists,
Black Pus,
H. Thieme,
Peter & Gordon,
Flash Fearless,
Sound Behaviour,
F. McDonald,
Byron Stingily,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Skatalites,
Accadde A,
Whodini,
Michelle Simonal,
The Barracudas,
Subhumans,
Index,
Thee Headcoats,
A Certain Ratio,
Soft Machine,
Gong,
Cecil Taylor,
Kurtis Blow,
The Names,
The Fire Engines,
Jandek,
The Selecter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Dead C,
Pierre Henry,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Modern Lovers,
Brothers Johnson,
48th St. Collective,
JFA,
Khruangbin,
Fugazi,
Yusef Lateef,
the Swans,
Dawn Penn,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tears for Fears,
Radiohead,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ronnie Foster,
The United States of America,
R.M.O.,
Con Funk Shun,
Gerry Rafferty,
X-101,
Rod Modell,
Moss Icon,
Alton Ellis,
Supertramp,
Gang of Four,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.