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 South Africa and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar 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 The New Christs to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Ronan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Monks,
John Cale,
The Vogues,
Carl Craig,
Chrome,
Average White Band,
Newcleus,
Technova,
Masters at Work,
Chris & Cosey,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
R.M.O.,
Pantaleimon,
The Toasters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
New York Dolls,
Eden Ahbez,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Oneida,
Yazoo,
a-ha,
Curtis Mayfield,
Popol Vuh,
Black Moon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
10cc,
The New Christs,
Harry Pussy,
Tres Demented,
B.T. Express,
The Red Krayola,
Hashim,
Maurizio,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ossler,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Durutti Column,
Electric Prunes,
In Retrospect,
Amazonics,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Reuben Wilson,
The Grass Roots,
Eric Dolphy,
Faust,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Radio Birdman,
Make Up,
DJ Style,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tubeway Army,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Smiths,
Juan Atkins,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moss Icon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nirvana,
Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly, Anakelly.
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.