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 Togo and from Tehran.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 harpsichord 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Joy Division,
Pantytec,
Junior Murvin,
Gang Starr,
Talk Talk,
Kevin Saunderson,
R.M.O.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sparks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marshall Jefferson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eric B and Rakim,
DJ Style,
Inner City,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Misunderstood,
B.T. Express,
Idris Muhammad,
Josef K,
T. Rex,
The Fuzztones,
The Trojans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nick Fraelich,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Angry Samoans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Iggy Pop,
Procol Harum,
Sun Ra,
Thompson Twins,
Bobby Sherman,
Roxette,
Saccharine Trust,
Slave,
Pussy Galore,
Easy Going,
Cal Tjader,
F. McDonald,
Donny Hathaway,
The Tremeloes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
ABC,
Deadbeat,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scan 7,
Jerry's Kids,
Half Japanese,
The Durutti Column,
Carl Craig,
Nirvana,
Black Sheep,
Lungfish,
Althea and Donna,
Marc Almond,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Seeds,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.