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 Bahamas and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 AZ to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Scan 7,
Depeche Mode,
Yazoo,
The Gun Club,
The Residents,
Janne Schatter,
Lakeside,
X-102,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Half Japanese,
Eurythmics,
Schoolly D,
Alice Coltrane,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Loose Ends,
John Foxx,
Unrelated Segments,
Bobby Sherman,
Radiohead,
Nirvana,
the Normal,
Mark Hollis,
Severed Heads,
Dorothy Ashby,
Josef K,
Cymande,
Saccharine Trust,
New Age Steppers,
Rufus Thomas,
B.T. Express,
Scott Walker,
Masters at Work,
Second Layer,
Model 500,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Donald Byrd,
Outsiders,
Popol Vuh,
The Monks,
One Last Wish,
The New Christs,
Jacques Brel,
Sun City Girls,
A Certain Ratio,
New York Dolls,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Derrick Morgan,
Cecil Taylor,
Arcadia,
Marmalade,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Vladislav Delay,
Altered Images,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Darondo,
Alphaville,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sonics,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.