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 Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Donald Fagen 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 Piero Umiliani to the funk 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Index,
Excepter,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Janne Schatter,
Thee Headcoats,
the Fania All-Stars,
Altered Images,
Idris Muhammad,
10cc,
Aloha Tigers,
Fat Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Josef K,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nils Olav,
Chrome,
Wally Richardson,
Pole,
David Bowie,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Funky Four + One,
Sugar Minott,
Heaven 17,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tres Demented,
Mars,
Pussy Galore,
The Divine Comedy,
Iggy Pop,
X-102,
The Residents,
Neil Young,
Smog,
June Days,
Black Bananas,
Warren Ellis,
Roy Ayers,
Nik Kershaw,
The Count Five,
Nick Fraelich,
Duran Duran,
Warsaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Erykah Badu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Juan Atkins,
Ossler,
John Holt,
Marvin Gaye,
Arab on Radar,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Boogie Down Productions,
New York Dolls,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Five Americans,
The Beau Brummels,
Echospace,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Bourne,
Fela Kuti,
Alice Coltrane,
The Misunderstood,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.