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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Mad Mike,
Oneida,
Peter and Kerry,
The Martian,
The Gories,
Essential Logic,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Flag,
Babytalk,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Last Poets,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Star Department,
Section 25,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deadbeat,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Raincoats,
Eli Mardock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cecil Taylor,
The Leaves,
Bob Dylan,
The Monks,
Iggy Pop,
Carl Craig,
The Young Rascals,
The Smoke,
Country Teasers,
The Offenders,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lakeside,
John Holt,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Cale,
Vainqueur,
Jawbox,
Joey Negro,
Jeff Mills,
the Germs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Albert Ayler,
Rufus Thomas,
Severed Heads,
MC5,
The United States of America,
Liliput,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Matthew Bourne,
Soft Cell,
Gang Green,
Massinfluence,
Soulsonic Force,
Niagra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sandy B,
Morten Harket,
Zero Boys,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.