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 Georgia and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Magma to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Martian,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Porter Ricks,
Essential Logic,
The Residents,
Popol Vuh,
Supertramp,
Pole,
Tears for Fears,
Spoonie Gee,
The Detroit Cobras,
New York Dolls,
Mad Mike,
The Fire Engines,
the Sonics,
Michelle Simonal,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Kinks,
Dual Sessions,
Ultra Naté,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Hasil Adkins,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Agent Orange,
The Vogues,
Quantec,
Matthew Halsall,
Dawn Penn,
The Music Machine,
Rufus Thomas,
Cymande,
Don Cherry,
Grey Daturas,
Danielle Patucci,
Accadde A,
UT,
Yaz,
Los Fastidios,
Bronski Beat,
Tropical Tobacco,
Guru Guru,
Althea and Donna,
H. Thieme,
Kas Product,
Jacob Miller,
kango's stein massive,
Harmonia,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
John Foxx,
Banda Bassotti,
Khruangbin,
Arab on Radar,
Average White Band,
Trumans Water,
Gang Starr,
The Real Kids,
Livin' Joy,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.