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 Suriname and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Section 25 to the rock 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Swans,
The Angels of Light,
Altered Images,
Drexciya,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kaleidoscope,
The Dead C,
Underground Resistance,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Suburban Knight,
Soul II Soul,
These Immortal Souls,
T. Rex,
Depeche Mode,
Country Teasers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Arab on Radar,
Ponytail,
Niagra,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Evens,
The Fall,
Funky Four + One,
The Trojans,
Interpol,
Eric Copeland,
Radio Birdman,
Mars,
Funkadelic,
Chris Corsano,
James White and The Blacks,
Laurel Aitken,
Kurtis Blow,
The Pretty Things,
Half Japanese,
Y Pants,
The Gap Band,
Young Marble Giants,
The Doors,
Janne Schatter,
The Tremeloes,
The Kinks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ultravox,
48th St. Collective,
Make Up,
Bad Manners,
Swans,
Lungfish,
the Germs,
The Grass Roots,
The Leaves,
The Gories,
The Walker Brothers,
KRS-One,
Dennis Brown,
David Bowie,
DJ Style,
Mr. Review,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.