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 San Marino and from Sao Paulo.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Misunderstood to the punk 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Idris Muhammad,
Blake Baxter,
The Star Department,
John Lydon,
The Last Poets,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Sonics,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kayak,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Juan Atkins,
Roger Hodgson,
Lightning Bolt,
The Divine Comedy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lyres,
Youth Brigade,
Ludus,
Loose Ends,
Anthony Braxton,
Sixth Finger,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nils Olav,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mr. Review,
Spoonie Gee,
Half Japanese,
Mad Mike,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cymande,
B.T. Express,
Boredoms,
Average White Band,
ABC,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Move,
Agent Orange,
The Associates,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Quando Quango,
Sight & Sound,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lalann,
Eric Dolphy,
Q65,
Marine Girls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Shuggie Otis,
Country Teasers,
Brand Nubian,
Underground Resistance,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
FM Einheit,
Hardrive,
Godley & Creme,
JFA,
Dorothy Ashby,
Audionom,
Harry Pussy,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.