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 Honduras and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Marmalade,
Cymande,
Sparks,
Aural Exciters,
B.T. Express,
Drexciya,
Joy Division,
Mary Jane Girls,
Quando Quango,
Intrusion,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Susan Cadogan,
Grauzone,
the Human League,
the Swans,
The Saints,
Sällskapet,
a-ha,
Accadde A,
Eve St. Jones,
cv313,
Arcadia,
Connie Case,
MC5,
New Age Steppers,
Skarface,
Panda Bear,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Little Man,
Black Flag,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobby Womack,
Faraquet,
Hoover,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scratch Acid,
The Red Krayola,
Fela Kuti,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lucky Dragons,
Man Parrish,
Morten Harket,
The Pretty Things,
The Kinks,
kango's stein massive,
Jerry's Kids,
Patti Smith,
U.S. Maple,
Amazonics,
Model 500,
Bill Wells,
The Grass Roots,
Tres Demented,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gun Club,
Funky Four + One,
In Retrospect,
Popol Vuh,
Arthur Verocai,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.