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 South Africa and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Lightning Bolt,
Junior Murvin,
Cameo,
Goldenarms,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Zero Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
the Germs,
New Order,
Bush Tetras,
Black Pus,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soul II Soul,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang Green,
Siglo XX,
Chrome,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Byrd,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Shadows of Knight,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jerry's Kids,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Parry Music,
DNA,
Drexciya,
Joensuu 1685,
Harpers Bizarre,
Camberwell Now,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Peter and Kerry,
Ken Boothe,
Robert Hood,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
T. Rex,
The Buckinghams,
Eric Dolphy,
Ultravox,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arab on Radar,
Scion,
Index,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Dave Clark Five,
Zapp,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Move,
The Toasters,
David Bowie,
Stereo Dub,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fugazi,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sun City Girls,
Basic Channel,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.