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 Serbia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All Fela Kuti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
La Düsseldorf,
Connie Case,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Swans,
Ronnie Foster,
Negative Approach,
The Electric Prunes,
Radio Birdman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lower 48,
Ice-T,
Simply Red,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soft Cell,
Barbara Tucker,
Junior Murvin,
Jacques Brel,
FM Einheit,
KRS-One,
Alice Coltrane,
One Last Wish,
The Move,
T.S.O.L.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minny Pops,
The Pretty Things,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nick Fraelich,
Nico,
Oneida,
Subhumans,
Scratch Acid,
The Victims,
Patti Smith,
Los Fastidios,
Yazoo,
Yellowson,
New Order,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Young Marble Giants,
The Blackbyrds,
Howard Jones,
Jawbox,
Roxy Music,
Symarip,
Youth Brigade,
Pole,
Wasted Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Interpol,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Gladiators,
The Moody Blues,
Talk Talk,
Brass Construction,
Max Romeo,
The Wake,
Deakin,
The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set.
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.