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 Comoros 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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 New Age Steppers to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
Flash Fearless,
The Fire Engines,
Metal Thangz,
Scrapy,
Laurel Aitken,
Amon Düül II,
Byron Stingily,
Echospace,
Theoretical Girls,
The Martian,
John Lydon,
Whodini,
Public Enemy,
Henry Cow,
Chrome,
Quando Quango,
Monks,
The Blues Magoos,
Loose Ends,
Anakelly,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Bar-Kays,
Pharoah Sanders,
Tim Buckley,
Avey Tare,
Altered Images,
Pere Ubu,
Half Japanese,
Roger Hodgson,
X-102,
Massinfluence,
Yusef Lateef,
Kurtis Blow,
Ralphi Rosario,
Main Source,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Trojans,
The Count Five,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cheater Slicks,
The Five Americans,
Stockholm Monsters,
Inner City,
Fatback Band,
KRS-One,
the Sonics,
Graham Central Station,
Reagan Youth,
Ornette Coleman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gong,
Bootsy Collins,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Crash Course in Science,
Warsaw,
Dennis Brown,
DNA,
Television,
UT,
Charles Mingus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.