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 Austria and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minnie Riperton,
Livin' Joy,
Soulsonic Force,
Rapeman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gastr Del Sol,
The New Christs,
The Angels of Light,
X-Ray Spex,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Trojans,
Dead Boys,
Sight & Sound,
Adolescents,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donald Byrd,
Fear,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobby Womack,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scrapy,
Kurtis Blow,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slits,
Gang of Four,
Man Parrish,
Minor Threat,
Eric Dolphy,
Intrusion,
Matthew Halsall,
The Durutti Column,
Kerrie Biddell,
Model 500,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cal Tjader,
Matthew Bourne,
Anthony Braxton,
Blancmange,
Wire,
The Cure,
Marvin Gaye,
Zapp,
Joensuu 1685,
Aural Exciters,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Porter Ricks,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cecil Taylor,
Terry Callier,
Trumans Water,
Barbara Tucker,
Jimmy McGriff,
Dave Gahan,
Bluetip,
Gichy Dan,
Angry Samoans,
Metal Thangz,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.