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 Bolivia and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 synthesizer 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the crunk 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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Colin Newman,
the Fania All-Stars,
ABC,
Dennis Brown,
Hot Snakes,
The Knickerbockers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Silicon Teens,
The Count Five,
L. Decosne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brand Nubian,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Zapp,
Saccharine Trust,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lower 48,
Prince Buster,
Outsiders,
Harmonia,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Clear Light,
Mary Jane Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
Alice Coltrane,
Mandrill,
Ice-T,
Los Fastidios,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Smog,
Lindisfarne,
Interpol,
Neil Young,
the Sonics,
Wasted Youth,
Wolf Eyes,
Surgeon,
Harpers Bizarre,
Soul Sonic Force,
ABBA,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Offenders,
Thompson Twins,
Cluster,
Michelle Simonal,
Morten Harket,
Thee Headcoats,
Mantronix,
Stiv Bators,
Crooked Eye,
Eddi Front,
David Axelrod,
Ronan,
Laurel Aitken,
Massinfluence,
48th St. Collective,
Flipper,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.