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 Bhutan and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jandek to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
A Certain Ratio,
Anakelly,
The Selecter,
The Monks,
Bang On A Can,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sonny Sharrock,
Curtis Mayfield,
Soul Sonic Force,
Los Fastidios,
T.S.O.L.,
The Last Poets,
Darondo,
Thee Headcoats,
E-Dancer,
Boogie Down Productions,
Donald Byrd,
Pierre Henry,
The Blues Magoos,
The Neon Judgement,
The Detroit Cobras,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Buckinghams,
Gerry Rafferty,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Saccharine Trust,
the Germs,
The American Breed,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Kinks,
Fat Boys,
Mantronix,
Lindisfarne,
Agent Orange,
LL Cool J,
Can,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultra Naté,
Sam Rivers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nirvana,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Easy Going,
The J.B.'s,
Sparks,
Peter & Gordon,
Oneida,
Howard Jones,
Maleditus Sound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sandy B,
The Trojans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Adolescents,
Blossom Toes,
Shoche,
Alice Coltrane,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.