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 Croatia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 F. McDonald 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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Mandrill,
Procol Harum,
Rotary Connection,
The Black Dice,
Joe Smooth,
Can,
The Durutti Column,
Barrington Levy,
Wings,
These Immortal Souls,
Talk Talk,
Reuben Wilson,
Mantronix,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bill Near,
Bootsy Collins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Desert Stars,
the Fania All-Stars,
Main Source,
Aswad,
Vladislav Delay,
Funky Four + One,
Patti Smith,
H. Thieme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lalann,
John Foxx,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
June Days,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dark Day,
Aloha Tigers,
Half Japanese,
Panda Bear,
Symarip,
Radiohead,
Minnie Riperton,
Jacob Miller,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Alarm Clocks,
Yusef Lateef,
Kurtis Blow,
New Age Steppers,
Fluxion,
In Retrospect,
Ossler,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Schoolly D,
New York Dolls,
Byron Stingily,
Delon & Dalcan,
Technova,
Lucky Dragons,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brothers Johnson,
Model 500,
KRS-One,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.