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 Israel and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 DNA to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
R.M.O.,
Yusef Lateef,
B.T. Express,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Mummies,
Flash Fearless,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Alice Coltrane,
The Vogues,
Severed Heads,
Rekid,
Marc Almond,
Bill Near,
Pylon,
Sonny Sharrock,
Yazoo,
Glenn Branca,
Toni Rubio,
The Toasters,
Quantec,
Goldenarms,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ludus,
The Durutti Column,
The Names,
Smog,
Cameo,
Cymande,
Sex Pistols,
Yaz,
Scion,
The Blues Magoos,
Archie Shepp,
Arab on Radar,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sugar Minott,
X-101,
Charles Mingus,
Grey Daturas,
Panda Bear,
Amon Düül,
This Heat,
Buzzcocks,
Royal Trux,
La Düsseldorf,
The Real Kids,
China Crisis,
Public Enemy,
The Leaves,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Absolute Body Control,
48th St. Collective,
Das Ding,
Average White Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Black Dice,
Bush Tetras,
a-ha,
Laurel Aitken,
Dave Gahan,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.