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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
The Star Department,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fat Boys,
The Gories,
Neu!,
Minnie Riperton,
Hoover,
Amazonics,
Joe Finger,
Ultimate Spinach,
Toni Rubio,
Skarface,
Ituana,
Cymande,
Zero Boys,
Hashim,
Carl Craig,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Techniques,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Letta Mbulu,
Joe Smooth,
Avey Tare,
Tommy Roe,
Heaven 17,
Pantytec,
MC5,
Lyres,
Mars,
The Smiths,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dave Gahan,
the Bar-Kays,
John Cale,
Crash Course in Science,
Guru Guru,
The Sound,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Gladiators,
The Slackers,
Minutemen,
Girls At Our Best!,
Infiniti,
Average White Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Stockholm Monsters,
James White and The Blacks,
Faraquet,
Ossler,
Simply Red,
The Moleskins,
Neil Young,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lalo Schifrin,
Eden Ahbez,
Ohio Players,
Porter Ricks,
The Cowsills,
Jerry's Kids,
Pierre Henry,
Bizarre Inc.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.