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 Czech Republic and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe 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 Marcia Griffiths to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Brick,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Fire Engines,
Urselle,
Sonny Sharrock,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Michelle Simonal,
Deakin,
Alton Ellis,
Boz Scaggs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dark Day,
Fatback Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Tears for Fears,
Silicon Teens,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun City Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bluetip,
Pole,
The Move,
Sparks,
Desert Stars,
The Searchers,
The Neon Judgement,
Kas Product,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mo-Dettes,
Pylon,
Lou Reed,
Black Pus,
Public Enemy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wings,
Aloha Tigers,
Magma,
Mary Jane Girls,
Spandau Ballet,
Rites of Spring,
These Immortal Souls,
the Association,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Skatalites,
Symarip,
Avey Tare,
Pussy Galore,
Matthew Bourne,
Amon Düül,
Lightning Bolt,
The Monochrome Set,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Radiohead,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bauhaus,
the Normal,
Barbara Tucker,
The Techniques,
John Foxx,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Slave,
Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic, Essential Logic.
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.