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 Thailand and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Taipei.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ponytail,
Alison Limerick,
Eden Ahbez,
F. McDonald,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Todd Terry,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Human League,
Dead Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fatback Band,
Minny Pops,
Bronski Beat,
the Soft Cell,
Soft Cell,
Aural Exciters,
Jacob Miller,
Ronnie Foster,
Johnny Osbourne,
Boogie Down Productions,
David McCallum,
Fela Kuti,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Barrington Levy,
Robert Wyatt,
kango's stein massive,
Moebius,
Marine Girls,
D'Angelo,
Ralphi Rosario,
China Crisis,
The Gun Club,
Faraquet,
Camberwell Now,
Pantaleimon,
Cheater Slicks,
Funkadelic,
Mo-Dettes,
Aswad,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Boz Scaggs,
Au Pairs,
Make Up,
Massinfluence,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bob Dylan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Amon Düül,
The Barracudas,
The Real Kids,
The Detroit Cobras,
MDC,
Danielle Patucci,
Mr. Review,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Flash Fearless,
Judy Mowatt,
Byron Stingily,
Sällskapet,
Drexciya,
Maurizio,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.