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 East Timor and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 mellotron 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 Deakin to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boz Scaggs,
Pharoah Sanders,
David Bowie,
Joey Negro,
Darondo,
Desert Stars,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
One Last Wish,
Swell Maps,
The Dead C,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
the Slits,
The Monochrome Set,
the Normal,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marshall Jefferson,
Moss Icon,
Jawbox,
Yusef Lateef,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Monks,
Max Romeo,
Camouflage,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Standells,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
JFA,
Glenn Branca,
Derrick May,
Sam Rivers,
The Seeds,
Echospace,
Outsiders,
Davy DMX,
Quantec,
The Knickerbockers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bootsy Collins,
Pet Shop Boys,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Doors,
Blossom Toes,
Dennis Brown,
Accadde A,
Wire,
Agent Orange,
Unrelated Segments,
Suburban Knight,
48th St. Collective,
Marvin Gaye,
Subhumans,
Saccharine Trust,
Depeche Mode,
The Dave Clark Five,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Index,
Clear Light,
Scan 7,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Donny Hathaway,
The Cramps,
Ken Boothe,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Music Machine,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.