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 Australia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Columbus and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marshall Jefferson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Idris Muhammad,
Country Teasers,
Maurizio,
Sarah Menescal,
Lyres,
Vainqueur,
Ronan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
DNA,
Symarip,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Monochrome Set,
Ohio Players,
Qualms,
The Monks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tom Boy,
The United States of America,
Rites of Spring,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gichy Dan,
Warren Ellis,
Pussy Galore,
PIL,
Accadde A,
David Bowie,
The Zeros,
D'Angelo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
cv313,
Soulsonic Force,
Patti Smith,
Technova,
ABC,
The Evens,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dual Sessions,
Brothers Johnson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cluster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Letta Mbulu,
The Modern Lovers,
48th St. Collective,
Derrick Morgan,
Slick Rick,
The Index,
Y Pants,
Fad Gadget,
Skriet,
Niagra,
Cecil Taylor,
The Beau Brummels,
The Cramps,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.