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 Senegal and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 Joe Smooth to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The J.B.'s,
Aural Exciters,
The Dirtbombs,
The Angels of Light,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scrapy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Deepchord,
Wolf Eyes,
Black Flag,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Quantec,
DNA,
The Monks,
The Stooges,
Radiohead,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Leaves,
Pole,
Alison Limerick,
Fad Gadget,
The Monochrome Set,
Jandek,
Aloha Tigers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dark Day,
The Neon Judgement,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Mojo Men,
Dave Gahan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Vladislav Delay,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rapeman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Reuben Wilson,
The Motions,
Oblivians,
Blake Baxter,
Motorama,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jawbox,
Bronski Beat,
Lindisfarne,
Black Sheep,
Basic Channel,
Curtis Mayfield,
Piero Umiliani,
Nik Kershaw,
One Last Wish,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Smiths,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Agent Orange,
Sarah Menescal,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marmalade,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.