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 United States and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 guitar 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 Dual Sessions to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
Sam Rivers,
Infiniti,
Ten City,
The Electric Prunes,
Aaron Thompson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Maurizio,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dirtbombs,
JFA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Faraquet,
Con Funk Shun,
Pulsallama,
Scientists,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Swell Maps,
The Cure,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Oblivians,
The Blues Magoos,
Harry Pussy,
One Last Wish,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Human League,
Joyce Sims,
Sandy B,
Suicide,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roxette,
LL Cool J,
Andrew Hill,
Roger Hodgson,
Yusef Lateef,
X-Ray Spex,
Public Enemy,
Colin Newman,
T. Rex,
The Misunderstood,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Japan,
Gang Green,
Steve Hackett,
Jacob Miller,
Marcia Griffiths,
Joensuu 1685,
The Trojans,
The Gladiators,
Frankie Knuckles,
Donald Byrd,
ABC,
Crash Course in Science,
Television Personalities,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sister Nancy,
Royal Trux,
The Fortunes,
Deadbeat,
Radio Birdman,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.