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 Sudan and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Chris Corsano to the grime 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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
Piero Umiliani,
Funky Four + One,
Jeff Mills,
Jacob Miller,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultra Naté,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Todd Terry,
Alice Coltrane,
Mission of Burma,
The Invisible,
Gastr Del Sol,
Faust,
Oneida,
The Fugs,
Zapp,
Girls At Our Best!,
Los Fastidios,
Stiv Bators,
Organ,
Bang On A Can,
Fluxion,
The J.B.'s,
Minnie Riperton,
Amon Düül,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
June of 44,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kaleidoscope,
Parry Music,
Yazoo,
The Real Kids,
The Fall,
Steve Hackett,
Freddie Wadling,
T.S.O.L.,
Fat Boys,
Jeru the Damaja,
48th St. Collective,
The Raincoats,
Bluetip,
Underground Resistance,
UT,
Davy DMX,
D'Angelo,
Tim Buckley,
Sällskapet,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pylon,
Second Layer,
The Misunderstood,
Heaven 17,
The Litter,
Royal Trux,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Television,
Whodini,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.