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 Nigeria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Black Pus to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Colin Newman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
The New Christs,
Sight & Sound,
New York Dolls,
Reagan Youth,
Qualms,
Das Ding,
Neu!,
K-Klass,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Moss Icon,
T. Rex,
Circle Jerks,
The Pretty Things,
Sexual Harrassment,
Deadbeat,
David Axelrod,
The Evens,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Babytalk,
Ultra Naté,
Alice Coltrane,
Bobby Womack,
Marvin Gaye,
Monks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Don Cherry,
Bootsy Collins,
Schoolly D,
Supertramp,
Iggy Pop,
Niagra,
Cymande,
Massinfluence,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scan 7,
Anthony Braxton,
The Golliwogs,
Lightning Bolt,
Fatback Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
F. McDonald,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Dead C,
kango's stein massive,
The Blues Magoos,
Quadrant,
Sonny Sharrock,
Infiniti,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marine Girls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Dead Boys,
The Fortunes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cameo,
Gang of Four,
Johnny Clarke,
L. Decosne,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.