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 Syria and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar 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 Gichy Dan to the rap 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
PIL,
Eric Copeland,
Minor Threat,
The Cure,
The Last Poets,
Surgeon,
The Pretty Things,
DJ Style,
The Red Krayola,
Robert Hood,
Marine Girls,
The American Breed,
Ultimate Spinach,
Guru Guru,
Bill Near,
Q and Not U,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Public Enemy,
KRS-One,
The Misunderstood,
Circle Jerks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Zero Boys,
Stiv Bators,
Girls At Our Best!,
Chris & Cosey,
Connie Case,
L. Decosne,
Gang Green,
Joe Finger,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Martian,
Tropical Tobacco,
Moss Icon,
The Litter,
Quando Quango,
Unrelated Segments,
The Walker Brothers,
48th St. Collective,
Terrestrial Tones,
Johnny Osbourne,
AZ,
The Monochrome Set,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bizarre Inc.,
Minny Pops,
FM Einheit,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
John Coltrane,
Sister Nancy,
Iggy Pop,
Kurtis Blow,
Glambeats Corp.,
June of 44,
Scientists,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yusef Lateef,
The Standells,
Duran Duran,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Invisible,
Warren Ellis,
Hasil Adkins,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.