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 Somalia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Bootsy Collins to the grime 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Bootsy Collins,
Inner City,
Funky Four + One,
Kurtis Blow,
Charles Mingus,
The Moleskins,
Anthony Braxton,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Music Machine,
Mark Hollis,
Gichy Dan,
Mantronix,
Sam Rivers,
The Fugs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cybotron,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Robert Wyatt,
The Remains,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Zeros,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Soft Cell,
Pharoah Sanders,
Subhumans,
Clear Light,
Josef K,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Sherman,
Electric Prunes,
The Evens,
Model 500,
The Victims,
The Names,
The Five Americans,
Average White Band,
Ten City,
Idris Muhammad,
Gang Gang Dance,
48th St. Collective,
The Fire Engines,
The Knickerbockers,
Brick,
Mars,
Joe Finger,
Wasted Youth,
Fat Boys,
UT,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Velvet Underground,
Minnie Riperton,
Nick Fraelich,
The Saints,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Erykah Badu,
Hasil Adkins,
Depeche Mode,
Susan Cadogan,
Intrusion,
Sixth Finger,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.