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 Korea South and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 Alton Ellis to the disco 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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Fat Boys,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Neon Judgement,
Gong,
Theoretical Girls,
Motorama,
Sonic Youth,
Camouflage,
the Association,
The Moody Blues,
Von Mondo,
Fela Kuti,
Pussy Galore,
Lou Reed,
Sun City Girls,
Black Bananas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Angry Samoans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Oneida,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rosa Yemen,
FM Einheit,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Howard Jones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jacob Miller,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tubeway Army,
T.S.O.L.,
Lower 48,
Kas Product,
Nils Olav,
R.M.O.,
Wire,
a-ha,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Young Rascals,
Gang Green,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Matthew Bourne,
Gabor Szabo,
La Düsseldorf,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heaven 17,
Quadrant,
Ice-T,
Minny Pops,
Audionom,
Popol Vuh,
Harmonia,
Pantaleimon,
Mars,
Bob Dylan,
kango's stein massive,
Althea and Donna,
Nirvana,
Panda Bear,
Eurythmics,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.