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 Haiti and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 rap 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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Wyatt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cluster,
Interpol,
The Happenings,
F. McDonald,
The Grass Roots,
Talk Talk,
Bush Tetras,
Motorama,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Real Kids,
Gichy Dan,
Rapeman,
Negative Approach,
Nation of Ulysses,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kayak,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Panda Bear,
Technova,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Golliwogs,
Unwound,
Pantaleimon,
Unrelated Segments,
Scan 7,
Idris Muhammad,
the Soft Cell,
Scott Walker,
T. Rex,
Amon Düül,
Kerri Chandler,
AZ,
Slave,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kas Product,
The Knickerbockers,
Rekid,
Pere Ubu,
Los Fastidios,
Schoolly D,
Infiniti,
Dennis Brown,
Trumans Water,
Johnny Clarke,
Chris & Cosey,
Boz Scaggs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Prince Buster,
Shuggie Otis,
The Searchers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Dead C,
X-Ray Spex,
Robert Hood,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
H. Thieme,
Absolute Body Control,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.