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 Eritrea and from Houston.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Aaron Thompson to the rock 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan 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?
Black Pus,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Normal,
Ken Boothe,
Quadrant,
Mars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Toasters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Don Cherry,
Robert Görl,
Urselle,
X-Ray Spex,
Ralphi Rosario,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Newcleus,
The Smoke,
Stiv Bators,
Eden Ahbez,
Wolf Eyes,
Leonard Cohen,
John Lydon,
Country Teasers,
Das Ding,
Suicide,
The Wake,
Black Moon,
Sugar Minott,
Tubeway Army,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Kas Product,
Little Man,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Kinks,
The Offenders,
MC5,
Marcia Griffiths,
Freddie Wadling,
The Trojans,
Barbara Tucker,
Laurel Aitken,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Clear Light,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lou Reed,
R.M.O.,
Shuggie Otis,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dead Boys,
Kevin Saunderson,
Trumans Water,
Alice Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
the Swans,
Avey Tare,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pole,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ludus, Ludus, Ludus, Ludus.
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.