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 the UAE and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 sitar 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 Robert Wyatt to the rap 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
ABBA,
Index,
Fat Boys,
Franke,
Harmonia,
Deepchord,
The Gories,
Radiopuhelimet,
OOIOO,
Janne Schatter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Procol Harum,
Q65,
B.T. Express,
Darondo,
The Doors,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Happenings,
Hasil Adkins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dead Boys,
Boredoms,
the Association,
Spoonie Gee,
Terrestrial Tones,
The New Christs,
Shuggie Otis,
The Shadows of Knight,
Interpol,
Desert Stars,
Pagans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Sound,
Steve Hackett,
F. McDonald,
Althea and Donna,
Absolute Body Control,
Soul II Soul,
Pere Ubu,
Gang Starr,
Sight & Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Standells,
Simply Red,
Kerrie Biddell,
Schoolly D,
June of 44,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Evens,
Subhumans,
Goldenarms,
Fela Kuti,
Fad Gadget,
Blancmange,
The Leaves,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.