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 Cape Verde and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Lightning Bolt to the grime 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 Negative Approach. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Subhumans,
Nick Fraelich,
Alton Ellis,
Albert Ayler,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Banda Bassotti,
DJ Sneak,
Michelle Simonal,
Intrusion,
Sarah Menescal,
Alison Limerick,
Donald Byrd,
The Invisible,
Erasure,
Jandek,
Altered Images,
Spandau Ballet,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wings,
Underground Resistance,
Tears for Fears,
The Gories,
Sugar Minott,
Hardrive,
Rod Modell,
Urselle,
Symarip,
Crooked Eye,
Parry Music,
Graham Central Station,
Piero Umiliani,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tropical Tobacco,
Camouflage,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
James White and The Blacks,
The Wake,
F. McDonald,
Gastr Del Sol,
Max Romeo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang Gang Dance,
Todd Terry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Livin' Joy,
The Electric Prunes,
Television,
The Barracudas,
The Five Americans,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bob Dylan,
Joy Division,
Rekid,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fatback Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Magma,
Liliput,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.