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 Tuvalu and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Leaves to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kenny Larkin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Lakeside,
Reuben Wilson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Liliput,
The Misunderstood,
Mandrill,
Ultra Naté,
Mr. Review,
The Walker Brothers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Con Funk Shun,
Reagan Youth,
Nas,
The Happenings,
John Coltrane,
Parry Music,
Robert Görl,
The Pop Group,
Royal Trux,
Easy Going,
the Swans,
Lucky Dragons,
Soft Cell,
Wings,
the Slits,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Magazine,
Fatback Band,
Eric Copeland,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Prince Buster,
Hoover,
Nils Olav,
Nico,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The United States of America,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Chris Corsano,
Don Cherry,
Sugar Minott,
Minutemen,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
F. McDonald,
June Days,
Anakelly,
Johnny Clarke,
B.T. Express,
Rosa Yemen,
ABBA,
Sarah Menescal,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Erykah Badu,
Byron Stingily,
kango's stein massive,
Monks,
The Dead C,
Terry Callier,
Q65,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Young Rascals,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.