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 Qatar and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
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 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 The Alarm Clocks to the disco 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Accadde A,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lalann,
Joe Smooth,
Thompson Twins,
Judy Mowatt,
Joyce Sims,
Piero Umiliani,
Von Mondo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Moody Blues,
Minor Threat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Maurizio,
Ultravox,
The Golliwogs,
The Buckinghams,
Sarah Menescal,
Metal Thangz,
Laurel Aitken,
Pharoah Sanders,
Amon Düül II,
Dead Boys,
John Lydon,
Absolute Body Control,
The United States of America,
Glenn Branca,
Davy DMX,
New Order,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rapeman,
Country Teasers,
Hardrive,
Bobby Sherman,
Nas,
Interpol,
Josef K,
the Slits,
Lou Reed,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Bananas,
Patti Smith,
The Slackers,
Bob Dylan,
Smog,
Harmonia,
H. Thieme,
Camberwell Now,
the Bar-Kays,
Michelle Simonal,
Kas Product,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fluxion,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rod Modell,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Modern Lovers,
ABBA,
DNA,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.