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 Suriname and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Byron Stingily to the dance 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Donny Hathaway,
Morten Harket,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
T. Rex,
Delta 5,
Scan 7,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cameo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bang On A Can,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eric Dolphy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Moss Icon,
The United States of America,
David McCallum,
Matthew Bourne,
Piero Umiliani,
Boz Scaggs,
New Order,
Althea and Donna,
Camberwell Now,
Bush Tetras,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
KRS-One,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cure,
Reuben Wilson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Johnny Clarke,
Grey Daturas,
Vladislav Delay,
The Buckinghams,
Faraquet,
Negative Approach,
Arthur Verocai,
Gang Green,
Quantec,
Isaac Hayes,
Country Teasers,
LL Cool J,
Eve St. Jones,
Main Source,
Rites of Spring,
Ken Boothe,
Yusef Lateef,
Derrick Morgan,
Sarah Menescal,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Agent Orange,
The Pretty Things,
Popol Vuh,
The Leaves,
Shoche,
Pere Ubu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Henry Cow,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.