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 Mozambique and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 Dual Sessions to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Crime,
Fad Gadget,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Con Funk Shun,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Barry Ungar,
Harry Pussy,
The Standells,
Make Up,
Supertramp,
X-101,
The Music Machine,
These Immortal Souls,
The Human League,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeff Lynne,
the Soft Cell,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Gories,
Y Pants,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Tommy Roe,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sun Ra,
Heaven 17,
Kool Moe Dee,
Hardrive,
Underground Resistance,
Stiv Bators,
Agitation Free,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Raincoats,
June Days,
T. Rex,
Harpers Bizarre,
Donald Byrd,
Marvin Gaye,
Wally Richardson,
Darondo,
Aural Exciters,
Rufus Thomas,
Brick,
Whodini,
Barbara Tucker,
Soul II Soul,
Letta Mbulu,
Al Stewart,
Black Pus,
Dual Sessions,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Godley & Creme,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fall,
Bobby Sherman,
Scientists,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Bourne,
A Certain Ratio,
Jacob Miller,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.