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 Bhutan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Robert Palmer 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 Suburban Knight to the punk 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
The Fuzztones,
Ultravox,
Zapp,
Man Eating Sloth,
Public Enemy,
Blossom Toes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Roy Ayers,
Fugazi,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Godley & Creme,
John Coltrane,
U.S. Maple,
Grauzone,
Quadrant,
Warsaw,
The United States of America,
Don Cherry,
Lightning Bolt,
Slick Rick,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Soft Cell,
Guru Guru,
Cameo,
The Martian,
Brothers Johnson,
Laurel Aitken,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Depeche Mode,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Kinks,
Archie Shepp,
JFA,
The Sound,
Sight & Sound,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
PIL,
Parry Music,
The Motions,
Siglo XX,
Fela Kuti,
Cluster,
Skriet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fugs,
The Tremeloes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
a-ha,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sparks,
Harry Pussy,
The Victims,
Rapeman,
Marine Girls,
Gong,
OOIOO,
Deakin,
Nils Olav,
cv313,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.