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 Afghanistan 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 The J.B.'s to the dance 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bush Tetras,
The Selecter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Talk Talk,
Sex Pistols,
Eric Dolphy,
the Bar-Kays,
Mr. Review,
Jerry's Kids,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soulsonic Force,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ponytail,
Ossler,
Howard Jones,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bizarre Inc.,
Johnny Clarke,
Unrelated Segments,
DJ Sneak,
Con Funk Shun,
Kas Product,
Sandy B,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jacob Miller,
The Smiths,
Prince Buster,
ABC,
The Misunderstood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Visage,
Pantaleimon,
Jacques Brel,
Symarip,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Audionom,
Buzzcocks,
Rapeman,
Bob Dylan,
The Dead C,
H. Thieme,
Connie Case,
Rosa Yemen,
Babytalk,
Public Image Ltd.,
Metal Thangz,
Susan Cadogan,
FM Einheit,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Janne Schatter,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Fugs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Spoonie Gee,
The Golliwogs,
Donny Hathaway,
Grandmaster Flash,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.