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 Guinea 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Laurel Aitken to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Gang Green tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Magazine,
Symarip,
Brick,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Nik Kershaw,
Television Personalities,
Carl Craig,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Robert Görl,
Urselle,
Henry Cow,
Davy DMX,
Skaos,
Franke,
Jandek,
Flamin' Groovies,
Dorothy Ashby,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Vogues,
The Pop Group,
The Skatalites,
The Red Krayola,
Minor Threat,
Faraquet,
Skarface,
Pulsallama,
Jeff Mills,
Bronski Beat,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sister Nancy,
The Gap Band,
Stereo Dub,
Porter Ricks,
The Trojans,
Simply Red,
Harmonia,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lyres,
Peter & Gordon,
A Certain Ratio,
Second Layer,
Kenny Larkin,
The Leaves,
Colin Newman,
Flipper,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dual Sessions,
Barrington Levy,
Whodini,
Albert Ayler,
Bill Near,
Moby Grape,
Make Up,
Visage,
Bauhaus,
Crime,
The Smiths,
Liliput,
Pantaleimon,
Stetsasonic,
Slave,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.