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 Czech Republic and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the crunk 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 Massinfluence. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Moebius,
Lou Christie,
The Count Five,
Quantec,
The Music Machine,
Matthew Halsall,
Warren Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Five Americans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pierre Henry,
Crime,
Darondo,
Second Layer,
Erykah Badu,
Motorama,
H. Thieme,
Hoover,
Visage,
Spandau Ballet,
The Seeds,
Radio Birdman,
Yusef Lateef,
Cameo,
Andrew Hill,
John Coltrane,
Deepchord,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Smoke,
Alphaville,
Lightning Bolt,
Pantaleimon,
Suburban Knight,
Donald Byrd,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Swans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wire,
Juan Atkins,
La Düsseldorf,
Ten City,
Danielle Patucci,
John Foxx,
The Pretty Things,
Lindisfarne,
F. McDonald,
Reuben Wilson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Fall,
The Cramps,
Japan,
Bobby Womack,
Patti Smith,
Josef K,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Human League,
Gang of Four,
Funky Four + One,
Dennis Brown,
Mo-Dettes,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.