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 Iraq and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth to the crunk 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Toni Rubio,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sun City Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Soul II Soul,
The Smoke,
the Swans,
Smog,
Zapp,
Matthew Halsall,
Avey Tare,
Chris Corsano,
Japan,
The Standells,
Wings,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sparks,
Harmonia,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Absolute Body Control,
Pierre Henry,
Eric B and Rakim,
Skaos,
Barclay James Harvest,
Clear Light,
Ice-T,
Dorothy Ashby,
Letta Mbulu,
Niagra,
H. Thieme,
B.T. Express,
Delta 5,
Mandrill,
Pussy Galore,
Alton Ellis,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sixth Finger,
Tom Boy,
Cal Tjader,
Todd Rundgren,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Chris & Cosey,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Wyatt,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Joyce Sims,
The Wake,
The Moody Blues,
Bob Dylan,
Liliput,
F. McDonald,
Heaven 17,
DJ Style,
Von Mondo,
Pagans,
Reagan Youth,
Mantronix,
Minutemen,
The Doors,
The Real Kids,
The Dirtbombs,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.