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 Syria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Last Poets to the punk 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Spoonie Gee,
Unwound,
The Names,
The Victims,
Eddi Front,
The Angels of Light,
Lakeside,
This Heat,
MDC,
The Monks,
Brass Construction,
Camouflage,
John Coltrane,
Public Enemy,
Judy Mowatt,
Morten Harket,
Rapeman,
Shuggie Otis,
Jacques Brel,
The Last Poets,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Joe Smooth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Warsaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kerrie Biddell,
Brand Nubian,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Johnny Clarke,
Aural Exciters,
New Order,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Fall,
Thee Headcoats,
the Soft Cell,
Yellowson,
Ice-T,
Circle Jerks,
Rhythm & Sound,
E-Dancer,
Isaac Hayes,
The Smoke,
D'Angelo,
Panda Bear,
Junior Murvin,
Mantronix,
Outsiders,
Oblivians,
The Real Kids,
Ken Boothe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Litter,
Janne Schatter,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gong,
Parry Music,
Eve St. Jones,
John Holt,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.