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 Moldova and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Fela Kuti to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Harry Pussy,
DJ Style,
Josef K,
Grey Daturas,
David Bowie,
Outsiders,
The Index,
Warsaw,
Neu!,
The Invisible,
Intrusion,
Jeff Lynne,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quadrant,
Au Pairs,
B.T. Express,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ten City,
Dark Day,
Wolf Eyes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scan 7,
Grauzone,
Reuben Wilson,
Archie Shepp,
Jeff Mills,
Derrick May,
Fugazi,
Qualms,
Black Moon,
The Pretty Things,
Marshall Jefferson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Symarip,
The Kinks,
Susan Cadogan,
Harmonia,
The Gun Club,
The Last Poets,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Saints,
Minny Pops,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Toni Rubio,
Procol Harum,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Suicide,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Seeds,
Aswad,
KRS-One,
Rites of Spring,
Ornette Coleman,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jerry's Kids,
Section 25,
Stiv Bators,
Magazine,
Chris & Cosey,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.