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 Chad and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
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 rhodes 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 Stetsasonic to the grime 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Fear,
Trumans Water,
The Index,
Tres Demented,
Arab on Radar,
A Certain Ratio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Morten Harket,
Pere Ubu,
The Music Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Leonard Cohen,
Bobby Byrd,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Golliwogs,
Aswad,
Mark Hollis,
Agent Orange,
Althea and Donna,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eli Mardock,
Anakelly,
Procol Harum,
Chris Corsano,
Wire,
Gang Starr,
10cc,
Hot Snakes,
The Cure,
EPMD,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Cale,
Black Moon,
The Cramps,
Barbara Tucker,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cecil Taylor,
T. Rex,
Cybotron,
Derrick May,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Happenings,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gichy Dan,
Ten City,
The Stooges,
Eric Copeland,
Jeff Lynne,
Steve Hackett,
MC5,
Whodini,
Nico,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Selecter,
Isaac Hayes,
Arthur Verocai,
Lalo Schifrin,
Brand Nubian,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.