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 Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Toronto and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Michael McDonald 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five to the crunk 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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Mills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Minny Pops,
the Germs,
John Holt,
Accadde A,
Pantaleimon,
AZ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joey Negro,
the Normal,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marmalade,
Jeru the Damaja,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Smiths,
Minnie Riperton,
Monks,
Index,
Terry Callier,
Brand Nubian,
The United States of America,
Prince Buster,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Music Machine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
New Order,
Wings,
The Monochrome Set,
The Durutti Column,
Nick Fraelich,
Negative Approach,
New Age Steppers,
The New Christs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
John Coltrane,
Stockholm Monsters,
Grey Daturas,
K-Klass,
Soulsonic Force,
Radiopuhelimet,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marcia Griffiths,
These Immortal Souls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minutemen,
Dave Gahan,
Bluetip,
Fad Gadget,
Fela Kuti,
The Gories,
Donald Byrd,
Soft Cell,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nas,
the Slits,
Oneida,
Nirvana,
The Modern Lovers,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.