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 Angola and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Khruangbin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
the Sonics,
H. Thieme,
Rhythm & Sound,
Danielle Patucci,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Spoonie Gee,
The Divine Comedy,
The Star Department,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Janne Schatter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Excepter,
Tropical Tobacco,
Graham Central Station,
kango's stein massive,
Urselle,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Intrusion,
Andrew Hill,
the Bar-Kays,
Sandy B,
Slick Rick,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Isaac Hayes,
The Slits,
Circle Jerks,
Darondo,
Suburban Knight,
Barclay James Harvest,
David Bowie,
Barry Ungar,
Dennis Brown,
The New Christs,
Deakin,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Litter,
Tom Boy,
Essential Logic,
AZ,
The Raincoats,
Anthony Braxton,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fugs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Slackers,
Tim Buckley,
Swans,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Roger Hodgson,
Motorama,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
LL Cool J,
OOIOO,
Wasted Youth,
Procol Harum,
Roxy Music,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Marcia Griffiths,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.