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 El Salvador and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Buzzcocks to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Al Stewart. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Juan Atkins,
Heaven 17,
Livin' Joy,
Mandrill,
Wasted Youth,
Mantronix,
Colin Newman,
Donald Byrd,
Average White Band,
The Cramps,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Schoolly D,
Nation of Ulysses,
Piero Umiliani,
Groovy Waters,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
X-Ray Spex,
Deepchord,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Crooked Eye,
Connie Case,
Lucky Dragons,
Joyce Sims,
These Immortal Souls,
Rapeman,
Fat Boys,
Crime,
The Smoke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobby Sherman,
Yellowson,
Rotary Connection,
The Knickerbockers,
10cc,
Eurythmics,
Eden Ahbez,
Kerri Chandler,
Chris & Cosey,
Jacques Brel,
Das Ding,
F. McDonald,
The Fortunes,
La Düsseldorf,
Boogie Down Productions,
Radio Birdman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jandek,
Nirvana,
Funky Four + One,
Henry Cow,
Kenny Larkin,
K-Klass,
Basic Channel,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ornette Coleman,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The American Breed,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bill Wells,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.