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 Japan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the techno 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siglo XX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Animal Collective,
Chris & Cosey,
The Smoke,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Selecter,
John Coltrane,
FM Einheit,
Slick Rick,
Idris Muhammad,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cymande,
Black Pus,
Arcadia,
Black Sheep,
Agitation Free,
Aloha Tigers,
Moss Icon,
Mantronix,
Dennis Brown,
Brick,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacques Brel,
Aswad,
John Foxx,
Drexciya,
Moebius,
Motorama,
Banda Bassotti,
48th St. Collective,
Tom Boy,
Mr. Review,
Joey Negro,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ken Boothe,
Pierre Henry,
Blake Baxter,
Marine Girls,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Arthur Verocai,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Laurel Aitken,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Circle Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Quantec,
The Birthday Party,
Chrome,
the Association,
Cecil Taylor,
Fugazi,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Remains,
Hot Snakes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rufus Thomas,
Whodini,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.