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 Barbados and from Halifax.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 David Bowie 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 The Doors to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minny Pops,
Funkadelic,
Zero Boys,
The Monks,
48th St. Collective,
Byron Stingily,
Marmalade,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pulsallama,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Motorama,
World's Most,
Graham Central Station,
A Certain Ratio,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Arab on Radar,
Mission of Burma,
Aswad,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Grauzone,
John Lydon,
Outsiders,
Surgeon,
The Litter,
Yusef Lateef,
Piero Umiliani,
Goldenarms,
Pantytec,
Schoolly D,
Pole,
Dark Day,
New Order,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brothers Johnson,
Bootsy Collins,
Ten City,
Thompson Twins,
Brass Construction,
The Smiths,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Godley & Creme,
Ash Ra Tempel,
June of 44,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Gabor Szabo,
Amon Düül,
Visage,
These Immortal Souls,
Babytalk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rod Modell,
Maleditus Sound,
Wally Richardson,
The Raincoats,
The Angels of Light,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Doobie Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
Joe Smooth,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.