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 Kosovo and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Black Pus to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Sun Ra,
T. Rex,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Swans,
Black Moon,
Jeff Lynne,
Joensuu 1685,
Scion,
Bizarre Inc.,
Popol Vuh,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Parry Music,
Warsaw,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Cramps,
Lower 48,
Funkadelic,
The Angels of Light,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacques Brel,
The Doobie Brothers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Main Source,
EPMD,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bad Manners,
Joyce Sims,
Outsiders,
The Happenings,
The Neon Judgement,
Brass Construction,
Kaleidoscope,
Cheater Slicks,
The Birthday Party,
Kas Product,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Alton Ellis,
Ossler,
Joey Negro,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ponytail,
Average White Band,
Soft Machine,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Moody Blues,
Nick Fraelich,
Drexciya,
Fear,
Josef K,
Sugar Minott,
Ultra Naté,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rakim,
Nas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Knickerbockers,
Don Cherry,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.