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 Japan and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the crunk 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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
June of 44,
Amazonics,
Cluster,
Alton Ellis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Second Layer,
Alphaville,
The Grass Roots,
Lower 48,
DJ Sneak,
Duran Duran,
Fat Boys,
Monks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Neil Young,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Cure,
The Dead C,
the Normal,
The Star Department,
The Young Rascals,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rakim,
Eric B and Rakim,
Country Teasers,
The Blackbyrds,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Red Krayola,
Blossom Toes,
Electric Prunes,
LL Cool J,
The Dirtbombs,
The Cowsills,
Visage,
Audionom,
Man Eating Sloth,
Model 500,
Roxette,
Roxy Music,
Crooked Eye,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sällskapet,
The Searchers,
Theoretical Girls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Shoche,
The Trojans,
Motorama,
Clear Light,
Brothers Johnson,
Avey Tare,
The Smoke,
D'Angelo,
Ultravox,
Fluxion,
The Busters,
Albert Ayler,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Standells,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.