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 South Sudan and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Bang On A Can to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Todd Terry,
Urselle,
Carl Craig,
B.T. Express,
Jacob Miller,
U.S. Maple,
Cybotron,
Banda Bassotti,
Max Romeo,
Young Marble Giants,
Spoonie Gee,
John Holt,
DNA,
Barry Ungar,
Von Mondo,
The Tremeloes,
Soft Machine,
The Techniques,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Hood,
Subhumans,
Slave,
Skarface,
Fluxion,
Grey Daturas,
Sun Ra,
Boredoms,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mission of Burma,
Severed Heads,
Steve Hackett,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Green,
Metal Thangz,
Popol Vuh,
Soulsonic Force,
Delta 5,
Ultravox,
Ludus,
Oblivians,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Main Source,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gladiators,
The Fall,
Ice-T,
Dual Sessions,
Marc Almond,
Bill Near,
The Evens,
Thee Headcoats,
Wire,
Saccharine Trust,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Slick Rick,
Peter and Kerry,
Toni Rubio,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Camberwell Now,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.