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 Libya and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron 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 Fluxion to the electroclash 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
DJ Sneak,
John Lydon,
Robert Görl,
Frankie Knuckles,
Suicide,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
World's Most,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Youth Brigade,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lucky Dragons,
Davy DMX,
AZ,
Minnie Riperton,
The Slits,
The Dirtbombs,
Cybotron,
Excepter,
The Electric Prunes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Slave,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Pus,
New Order,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Grass Roots,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Matthew Halsall,
The Happenings,
Wings,
the Bar-Kays,
Pantytec,
ABBA,
The Fuzztones,
The Smoke,
the Normal,
Thee Headcoats,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cluster,
Cymande,
Deepchord,
Au Pairs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jeff Lynne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wally Richardson,
Byron Stingily,
Vladislav Delay,
The Black Dice,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bob Dylan,
Subhumans,
Hoover,
Ludus,
Scrapy,
D'Angelo,
Mars,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.