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 Swaziland and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Kas Product to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Wally Richardson,
The Blues Magoos,
Simply Red,
The Vogues,
the Association,
Pulsallama,
The Durutti Column,
Kaleidoscope,
Hardrive,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Oblivians,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Suicide,
Los Fastidios,
Aloha Tigers,
Bluetip,
Television Personalities,
Soft Machine,
Marvin Gaye,
The Searchers,
The Raincoats,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brick,
FM Einheit,
Sex Pistols,
Surgeon,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
8 Eyed Spy,
Moebius,
Stiv Bators,
Fifty Foot Hose,
U.S. Maple,
Yusef Lateef,
Ponytail,
Tears for Fears,
Mark Hollis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pussy Galore,
Porter Ricks,
Derrick Morgan,
Robert Wyatt,
Iggy Pop,
Bob Dylan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cecil Taylor,
the Slits,
Index,
Soulsonic Force,
Gang of Four,
Depeche Mode,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Piero Umiliani,
Intrusion,
The Doors,
Youth Brigade,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Blancmange,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.