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 Russia and from Salvador.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Kenny Larkin,
Gang Starr,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kurtis Blow,
The Golliwogs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Flipper,
Delon & Dalcan,
Metal Thangz,
The Velvet Underground,
Morten Harket,
John Foxx,
Ten City,
Soul II Soul,
UT,
Arcadia,
A Certain Ratio,
The Blackbyrds,
June Days,
Davy DMX,
The Moody Blues,
FM Einheit,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bill Near,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Juan Atkins,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Nas,
Eve St. Jones,
X-101,
The Cramps,
Marc Almond,
the Bar-Kays,
Ronnie Foster,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ken Boothe,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Real Kids,
Brothers Johnson,
The Offenders,
Derrick May,
Eric Copeland,
Quadrant,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Whodini,
Royal Trux,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Cecil Taylor,
Stockholm Monsters,
Second Layer,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Holt,
Talk Talk,
Reagan Youth,
MDC,
The Seeds,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.