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 Fiji and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Desert Stars,
Dawn Penn,
The Slackers,
Stetsasonic,
F. McDonald,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ornette Coleman,
In Retrospect,
Neil Young,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Seeds,
Prince Buster,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Donny Hathaway,
Technova,
The Remains,
Cameo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pussy Galore,
Tropical Tobacco,
Flash Fearless,
Robert Hood,
Talk Talk,
Joe Finger,
Charles Mingus,
Ituana,
Max Romeo,
Lebanon Hanover,
DNA,
Jandek,
Sugar Minott,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roxy Music,
Janne Schatter,
Ronan,
Lalann,
The Doors,
Buzzcocks,
X-101,
The Martian,
Second Layer,
U.S. Maple,
The Pretty Things,
The Dirtbombs,
Davy DMX,
The Fortunes,
Eli Mardock,
CMW,
Mantronix,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Amon Düül,
Ralphi Rosario,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eve St. Jones,
Main Source,
Danielle Patucci,
Tres Demented,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.