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 Afghanistan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Happenings 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
The Saints,
Monolake,
Grauzone,
Panda Bear,
Gang Green,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Barry Ungar,
Junior Murvin,
Heaven 17,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Barrington Levy,
ABC,
Loose Ends,
Nik Kershaw,
Supertramp,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jimmy McGriff,
Crash Course in Science,
Patti Smith,
Brothers Johnson,
John Lydon,
MC5,
Rufus Thomas,
The Velvet Underground,
Can,
Gang of Four,
Sam Rivers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Oblivians,
Nils Olav,
Simply Red,
Black Bananas,
Parry Music,
John Foxx,
The Dead C,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Harry Pussy,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Fear,
The Gap Band,
Derrick Morgan,
The Blues Magoos,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Womack,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fuzztones,
Gong,
Arab on Radar,
A Certain Ratio,
The Seeds,
The Angels of Light,
Iggy Pop,
the Human League,
Boredoms,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hashim,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.