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 United States and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Q65 to the grunge 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Black Sheep,
The Litter,
Robert Hood,
Terry Callier,
Shoche,
Girls At Our Best!,
Morten Harket,
Black Pus,
MDC,
Freddie Wadling,
Angry Samoans,
Graham Central Station,
Joyce Sims,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobby Byrd,
Nick Fraelich,
E-Dancer,
Eve St. Jones,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dual Sessions,
Outsiders,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Kayak,
F. McDonald,
T. Rex,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rod Modell,
Maleditus Sound,
Dawn Penn,
Nik Kershaw,
Bootsy Collins,
Isaac Hayes,
Amazonics,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Alison Limerick,
Black Flag,
Crime,
Lindisfarne,
Tomorrow,
Technova,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Excepter,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Albert Ayler,
Porter Ricks,
Section 25,
Wolf Eyes,
Monks,
Minutemen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Franke,
The Electric Prunes,
Eric Copeland,
Das Ding,
Sight & Sound,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.