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 Libya and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Toronto and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 synthesizer 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 Gabor Szabo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Saccharine Trust 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roy Ayers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grandmaster Flash,
Donald Byrd,
The Monks,
Sparks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Andrew Hill,
Brass Construction,
Ituana,
Matthew Halsall,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
UT,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
David McCallum,
David Axelrod,
Crispy Ambulance,
Reuben Wilson,
The Martian,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric Dolphy,
Newcleus,
X-Ray Spex,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fear,
K-Klass,
Radio Birdman,
Lakeside,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Skriet,
Bad Manners,
Tres Demented,
In Retrospect,
Charles Mingus,
The Wake,
Stereo Dub,
Smog,
The Mojo Men,
Carl Craig,
Mr. Review,
Cal Tjader,
Niagra,
Alphaville,
Mandrill,
ABC,
Bang On A Can,
R.M.O.,
Piero Umiliani,
Groovy Waters,
Ronan,
New Age Steppers,
Masters at Work,
Lindisfarne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.