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 Oman and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tehran.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Kas Product to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Warsaw,
Can,
Amon Düül II,
T.S.O.L.,
Tim Buckley,
a-ha,
Ossler,
Patti Smith,
Black Moon,
Robert Hood,
Q65,
The Barracudas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Spandau Ballet,
Nils Olav,
Buzzcocks,
Oblivians,
Kas Product,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Freddie Wadling,
The Dead C,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bob Dylan,
Curtis Mayfield,
Camouflage,
Prince Buster,
Suburban Knight,
B.T. Express,
Blake Baxter,
Skarface,
Terry Callier,
The Neon Judgement,
The Slackers,
Zapp,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oneida,
Stiv Bators,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
D'Angelo,
Pierre Henry,
Gong,
Ludus,
Jeff Lynne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Royal Trux,
Fugazi,
Crispian St. Peters,
Talk Talk,
Hashim,
Hasil Adkins,
One Last Wish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harpers Bizarre,
June Days,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Lalann,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fuzztones,
Ronan,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.