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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the funk 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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
The American Breed,
DJ Sneak,
Alton Ellis,
The Electric Prunes,
Peter & Gordon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Normal,
Marine Girls,
The Trojans,
Marc Almond,
The New Christs,
The Real Kids,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Anakelly,
Crime,
Liliput,
R.M.O.,
Main Source,
the Swans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Derrick Morgan,
The Slits,
Marcia Griffiths,
Unwound,
Minnie Riperton,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rhythm & Sound,
Country Teasers,
Index,
Aloha Tigers,
Roy Ayers,
The Sonics,
FM Einheit,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nas,
Roxy Music,
Ornette Coleman,
The Doobie Brothers,
Von Mondo,
Scott Walker,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Blackbyrds,
The Detroit Cobras,
Prince Buster,
T.S.O.L.,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Adolescents,
Groovy Waters,
Bush Tetras,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
Neil Young,
Cal Tjader,
Terry Callier,
Symarip,
Fluxion,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.