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 Uzbekistan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Duran Duran to the jazz 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Barrington Levy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Fugazi,
Tommy Roe,
Essential Logic,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Normal,
Au Pairs,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Martian,
the Germs,
KRS-One,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mr. Review,
Tres Demented,
Wings,
One Last Wish,
The Pretty Things,
Liliput,
Parry Music,
Subhumans,
Gong,
Josef K,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Donald Byrd,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Khruangbin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tropical Tobacco,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
K-Klass,
Wasted Youth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Silicon Teens,
The Buckinghams,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ludus,
The Saints,
Curtis Mayfield,
Negative Approach,
Stockholm Monsters,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
David Bowie,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scrapy,
Zapp,
Donny Hathaway,
Alison Limerick,
The Birthday Party,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Byrd,
a-ha,
Joe Smooth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Drexciya,
Delta 5,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cal Tjader,
Black Bananas,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band, The Gap Band.
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.