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 Mozambique 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin 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 Dark Day to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Delon & Dalcan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Index,
Grandmaster Flash,
Wally Richardson,
Section 25,
Danielle Patucci,
Trumans Water,
Monks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pussy Galore,
Malaria!,
Dead Boys,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Soft Cell,
John Foxx,
Essential Logic,
The Pretty Things,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Faust,
Deepchord,
Howard Jones,
Hoover,
Lindisfarne,
Pantytec,
Loose Ends,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pylon,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Alarm Clocks,
Japan,
Half Japanese,
Gastr Del Sol,
Chris Corsano,
Black Bananas,
June of 44,
Stetsasonic,
Jacob Miller,
Max Romeo,
Letta Mbulu,
Sällskapet,
Jerry's Kids,
Saccharine Trust,
Infiniti,
Boogie Down Productions,
Absolute Body Control,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scrapy,
Hot Snakes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marc Almond,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Neon Judgement,
Marmalade,
Jacques Brel,
The Gladiators,
Stiv Bators,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radiohead,
Gang Green,
Brick,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.