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 Russia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Anthony Braxton to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lebanon Hanover,
Soft Machine,
Lou Christie,
Lucky Dragons,
Alton Ellis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Drexciya,
X-101,
Ultra Naté,
Brass Construction,
Can,
Franke,
Flipper,
Terrestrial Tones,
Silicon Teens,
Albert Ayler,
Kurtis Blow,
Oneida,
The Count Five,
Heaven 17,
The Doors,
Sun City Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
Parry Music,
Kerri Chandler,
Stockholm Monsters,
Shuggie Otis,
Hoover,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cal Tjader,
Bluetip,
Scientists,
Excepter,
Cymande,
The Moleskins,
The Misunderstood,
Joy Division,
Blancmange,
Leonard Cohen,
Icehouse,
Pagans,
Sixth Finger,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Human League,
Alice Coltrane,
Bush Tetras,
Jeff Lynne,
Minnie Riperton,
The Mojo Men,
Rapeman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
China Crisis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gladiators,
The Star Department,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Popol Vuh,
Wire,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.