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 Benin and from Manila.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 snare 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Barrington Levy,
Max Romeo,
Excepter,
The Beau Brummels,
Jandek,
Susan Cadogan,
KRS-One,
The Electric Prunes,
Cluster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sight & Sound,
Flamin' Groovies,
Slick Rick,
F. McDonald,
Moss Icon,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Mummies,
The Searchers,
Desert Stars,
Goldenarms,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Birthday Party,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ludus,
Porter Ricks,
The Fugs,
Shuggie Otis,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bill Wells,
H. Thieme,
The Motions,
Interpol,
Cybotron,
Subhumans,
The Red Krayola,
Kenny Larkin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Essential Logic,
Sonic Youth,
Roy Ayers,
Sixth Finger,
UT,
The Gories,
Joy Division,
The Raincoats,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Andrew Hill,
Prince Buster,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Flash Fearless,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deakin,
ABBA,
Lower 48,
the Normal,
Erasure,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wings,
Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode, Depeche Mode.
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.