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 Guyana and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jeff Mills to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
EPMD,
the Human League,
Fugazi,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Monks,
The Doors,
Shuggie Otis,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
cv313,
The New Christs,
Animal Collective,
China Crisis,
Jeff Mills,
Derrick Morgan,
David Bowie,
Surgeon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Interpol,
Infiniti,
Rakim,
Inner City,
The Modern Lovers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Smoke,
Procol Harum,
Darondo,
Rekid,
Graham Central Station,
Bronski Beat,
Unrelated Segments,
Crispy Ambulance,
Japan,
Warsaw,
F. McDonald,
Audionom,
John Coltrane,
the Normal,
Funky Four + One,
The Kinks,
Erykah Badu,
Tres Demented,
Wasted Youth,
Outsiders,
Dual Sessions,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mark Hollis,
Colin Newman,
Warren Ellis,
Barrington Levy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Mojo Men,
Lakeside,
The Selecter,
Jacob Miller,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Malaria!,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moebius,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.