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 Malawi and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Archie Shepp to the grime 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Avey Tare,
Pylon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Funkadelic,
Hardrive,
Minutemen,
Subhumans,
Blake Baxter,
Public Enemy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Black Bananas,
The Gun Club,
cv313,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pere Ubu,
Pulsallama,
Wasted Youth,
The Zeros,
Bobby Sherman,
The Last Poets,
Blancmange,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Deakin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yusef Lateef,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Funky Four + One,
Leonard Cohen,
Don Cherry,
Quadrant,
Groovy Waters,
Angry Samoans,
The Real Kids,
Circle Jerks,
Absolute Body Control,
Accadde A,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Stooges,
Visage,
10cc,
Sam Rivers,
Skaos,
The Gories,
Spoonie Gee,
Wire,
Bad Manners,
OOIOO,
Arthur Verocai,
Organ,
D'Angelo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fall,
Anthony Braxton,
Public Image Ltd.,
Moss Icon,
Maurizio,
Unwound,
Main Source,
Kerri Chandler,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.