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 Gambia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
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 synthesizer 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 Accadde A to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Martian,
Todd Rundgren,
The Names,
Drexciya,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pere Ubu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Warsaw,
The Misunderstood,
EPMD,
Reuben Wilson,
Kerri Chandler,
New Order,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Camberwell Now,
Moebius,
The Motions,
Massinfluence,
Wings,
Ornette Coleman,
Infiniti,
The Flesh Eaters,
Half Japanese,
The United States of America,
Roy Ayers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Big Daddy Kane,
Japan,
Intrusion,
Harry Pussy,
Skarface,
Trumans Water,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Camouflage,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Harmonia,
Mary Jane Girls,
Audionom,
Mad Mike,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joe Smooth,
Groovy Waters,
Juan Atkins,
Duran Duran,
The Monks,
Jawbox,
Man Eating Sloth,
Archie Shepp,
Metal Thangz,
Newcleus,
Grauzone,
Soft Machine,
Boredoms,
Eli Mardock,
The Young Rascals,
The Sound,
Mars,
Jeff Mills,
Henry Cow,
Bronski Beat,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.