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 Samoa and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Robert Palmer 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the disco 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Q65,
Q and Not U,
Tommy Roe,
Ronan,
H. Thieme,
Graham Central Station,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dead Boys,
The Walker Brothers,
Boz Scaggs,
Prince Buster,
Todd Rundgren,
Pere Ubu,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Radio Birdman,
Marvin Gaye,
a-ha,
Eurythmics,
Sandy B,
Surgeon,
Excepter,
The Barracudas,
One Last Wish,
Lightning Bolt,
Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Prunes,
Make Up,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Mission of Burma,
Technova,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moby Grape,
Sister Nancy,
Sight & Sound,
Television Personalities,
The Martian,
Leonard Cohen,
Fat Boys,
Alton Ellis,
James White and The Blacks,
Organ,
E-Dancer,
Zero Boys,
Soft Machine,
Carl Craig,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Tremeloes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bluetip,
Robert Hood,
Black Flag,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Görl,
The Velvet Underground,
Main Source,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
New York Dolls,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.