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 Ukraine and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Shadows of Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siglo XX,
Danielle Patucci,
Depeche Mode,
Underground Resistance,
China Crisis,
Soft Machine,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The United States of America,
Cheater Slicks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Severed Heads,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Circle Jerks,
Kerri Chandler,
Duran Duran,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eve St. Jones,
Yusef Lateef,
One Last Wish,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Hot Snakes,
the Germs,
Whodini,
Gang Gang Dance,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ice-T,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Pretty Things,
Roy Ayers,
Joy Division,
Yellowson,
Jacob Miller,
Pet Shop Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Knickerbockers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crash Course in Science,
Ronan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alice Coltrane,
Fela Kuti,
DNA,
The Human League,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Mummies,
X-Ray Spex,
The Dave Clark Five,
Monolake,
The Barracudas,
Rapeman,
Joe Smooth,
KRS-One,
Visage,
Juan Atkins,
Scott Walker,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.