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 Bulgaria and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar 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 Moleskins to the grunge 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Wings,
Fugazi,
Bang On A Can,
Eric Copeland,
Todd Rundgren,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Zero Boys,
Magazine,
Kerrie Biddell,
Television,
Juan Atkins,
Dawn Penn,
DNA,
Thee Headcoats,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Faust,
Derrick May,
Fear,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Country Joe & The Fish,
John Coltrane,
Intrusion,
John Holt,
Gang Green,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Remains,
Nico,
Jesper Dahlback,
La Düsseldorf,
Bluetip,
Clear Light,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arcadia,
the Swans,
Idris Muhammad,
Sällskapet,
Visage,
Supertramp,
Marc Almond,
The New Christs,
The Stooges,
Jeff Mills,
Flipper,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gil Scott Heron,
Archie Shepp,
In Retrospect,
Soulsonic Force,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Delta 5,
Bill Wells,
Dark Day,
Negative Approach,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Soft Cell,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.