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 Sweden and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Kenny Larkin to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Soulsonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Aloha Tigers,
The Residents,
Icehouse,
Scan 7,
The Beau Brummels,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Angry Samoans,
Isaac Hayes,
Interpol,
Moebius,
Bootsy Collins,
Zero Boys,
Fatback Band,
Los Fastidios,
Ultimate Spinach,
Babytalk,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mars,
Bobby Womack,
Yellowson,
Circle Jerks,
Hashim,
Ronan,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultravox,
Soft Cell,
Warren Ellis,
The Martian,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eve St. Jones,
Nas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Khruangbin,
Warsaw,
Susan Cadogan,
Delta 5,
Eric Copeland,
Brick,
Ossler,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Moon,
Cameo,
Das Ding,
Black Flag,
Archie Shepp,
The Smiths,
Sugar Minott,
Fugazi,
Visage,
Cecil Taylor,
Siglo XX,
Ten City,
The Mojo Men,
Echospace,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Oblivians,
Terry Callier,
Jacques Brel,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.