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 Macedonia and from Toronto.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 synthesizer 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 Alice Coltrane to the funk 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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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?
Delon & Dalcan,
Masters at Work,
Marcia Griffiths,
Alison Limerick,
Cymande,
Amon Düül,
The Fall,
Basic Channel,
Deepchord,
Mars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sex Pistols,
Ornette Coleman,
Andrew Hill,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wasted Youth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Graham Central Station,
the Germs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New York Dolls,
UT,
Roxette,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Neon Judgement,
Toni Rubio,
Eric Copeland,
Accadde A,
Whodini,
Con Funk Shun,
Eden Ahbez,
Skriet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brick,
Black Pus,
The Techniques,
Junior Murvin,
The Misunderstood,
Khruangbin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eve St. Jones,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Lydon,
Davy DMX,
James White and The Blacks,
the Swans,
Unwound,
Stiv Bators,
Glenn Branca,
In Retrospect,
The Happenings,
Shuggie Otis,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
FM Einheit,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Unrelated Segments,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Litter,
Rotary Connection,
The Moody Blues,
Susan Cadogan,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.