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 Ireland and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba 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 Arab on Radar to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Scratch Acid,
Don Cherry,
Blake Baxter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jeff Lynne,
La Düsseldorf,
Mark Hollis,
The Seeds,
Harry Pussy,
Delta 5,
John Lydon,
10cc,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Moon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kerrie Biddell,
a-ha,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Model 500,
Alton Ellis,
Livin' Joy,
Rapeman,
Roger Hodgson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Blossom Toes,
Josef K,
Maleditus Sound,
the Sonics,
Byron Stingily,
The Offenders,
Davy DMX,
John Coltrane,
The Count Five,
The Doobie Brothers,
Patti Smith,
The Grass Roots,
AZ,
Lou Christie,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Divine Comedy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Roy Ayers,
The Barracudas,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Flash Fearless,
The Angels of Light,
Barbara Tucker,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Blues Magoos,
Nils Olav,
Yaz,
The Last Poets,
Soft Machine,
Rosa Yemen,
The Happenings,
The Victims,
The Star Department,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.