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 Mexico and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Donald Fagen 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Kas Product tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
These Immortal Souls,
Trumans Water,
Depeche Mode,
Roy Ayers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Oblivians,
Tom Boy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Chris & Cosey,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Groovy Waters,
Connie Case,
Sam Rivers,
Radiohead,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Funky Four + One,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Kinks,
John Coltrane,
Mars,
Kenny Larkin,
The Martian,
Lalo Schifrin,
Black Bananas,
Deepchord,
Sugar Minott,
The Cramps,
Grey Daturas,
The Gladiators,
Brothers Johnson,
Can,
Subhumans,
Gil Scott Heron,
Heaven 17,
Angry Samoans,
Harry Pussy,
Boredoms,
Radiopuhelimet,
MDC,
The Neon Judgement,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Moby Grape,
Rod Modell,
Chris Corsano,
The Golliwogs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Andrew Hill,
Zapp,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sparks,
Half Japanese,
Lungfish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Roxy Music,
Pantytec,
PIL,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.