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 Mauritania and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 oboe 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 Spoonie Gee to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Jacques Brel,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Pus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eve St. Jones,
Kaleidoscope,
Depeche Mode,
Sam Rivers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Slick Rick,
Skarface,
The Last Poets,
Mars,
Japan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Doors,
The Fire Engines,
Khruangbin,
The Index,
The Names,
Accadde A,
Erasure,
The Star Department,
Ornette Coleman,
Liliput,
Johnny Clarke,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Mojo Men,
Black Flag,
Public Image Ltd.,
Warsaw,
Wally Richardson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ohio Players,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Associates,
Easy Going,
Man Eating Sloth,
Patti Smith,
The Smoke,
One Last Wish,
Negative Approach,
Black Moon,
Flash Fearless,
Chrome,
Ituana,
Sandy B,
Half Japanese,
Yaz,
The Raincoats,
Magazine,
10cc,
Youth Brigade,
Agitation Free,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crooked Eye,
Crime,
Frankie Knuckles,
Connie Case,
Faraquet,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.