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 Yemen and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the jazz 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Stiv Bators,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Parry Music,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Clear Light,
Derrick Morgan,
F. McDonald,
Archie Shepp,
Grey Daturas,
Das Ding,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lower 48,
Lou Christie,
Agent Orange,
Barry Ungar,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sonny Sharrock,
ABBA,
Mad Mike,
The Selecter,
The Pretty Things,
James White and The Blacks,
Second Layer,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
X-102,
John Coltrane,
Altered Images,
Aaron Thompson,
Schoolly D,
Davy DMX,
Sällskapet,
Amon Düül,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Danielle Patucci,
Slick Rick,
Mission of Burma,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bobby Womack,
Ultra Naté,
Angry Samoans,
Animal Collective,
Kerri Chandler,
Shuggie Otis,
Interpol,
Kool Moe Dee,
Althea and Donna,
The Shadows of Knight,
The New Christs,
Quadrant,
Cybotron,
Tommy Roe,
Patti Smith,
Bill Near,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Banda Bassotti,
Ultravox,
Metal Thangz,
Chris & Cosey,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skriet,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.