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 Ivory Coast and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Donald Byrd to the disco 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Yaz,
Tomorrow,
Surgeon,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Clarke,
Sound Behaviour,
Chrome,
Public Image Ltd.,
Minutemen,
The Moody Blues,
John Coltrane,
The Golliwogs,
Agent Orange,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Durutti Column,
a-ha,
The Grass Roots,
Jeff Mills,
Television Personalities,
Sarah Menescal,
Gil Scott Heron,
Neu!,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Loose Ends,
Robert Görl,
Das Ding,
Model 500,
Faraquet,
Adolescents,
Nico,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bob Dylan,
Archie Shepp,
Letta Mbulu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tommy Roe,
The Fuzztones,
Drexciya,
Anakelly,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bush Tetras,
The Fire Engines,
Shuggie Otis,
Henry Cow,
The Busters,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Standells,
The Mummies,
T.S.O.L.,
Jerry's Kids,
Alton Ellis,
Ludus,
Arthur Verocai,
The Evens,
Stetsasonic,
Johnny Osbourne,
Buzzcocks,
Tears for Fears,
Japan,
Colin Newman,
the Swans,
Subhumans,
L. Decosne,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.