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 Guinea and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Whodini to the funk 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 David Axelrod. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Warren Ellis,
Todd Rundgren,
June Days,
Theoretical Girls,
Cal Tjader,
The Litter,
Lucky Dragons,
Arthur Verocai,
Lou Christie,
Wings,
Black Pus,
The Barracudas,
Interpol,
Pierre Henry,
The Sonics,
Kurtis Blow,
Brothers Johnson,
The Modern Lovers,
The American Breed,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sixth Finger,
DJ Sneak,
Unrelated Segments,
Massinfluence,
Anakelly,
Crime,
Pere Ubu,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
H. Thieme,
Grauzone,
Nation of Ulysses,
Scott Walker,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mad Mike,
Eric Dolphy,
Scratch Acid,
Moebius,
Grandmaster Flash,
Scan 7,
Second Layer,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jawbox,
Radiopuhelimet,
Joe Smooth,
Monolake,
Mr. Review,
cv313,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lakeside,
Rufus Thomas,
Electric Prunes,
New Order,
Nils Olav,
Lower 48,
Infiniti,
Simply Red,
Skriet,
Ludus,
Dawn Penn,
Nirvana,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.