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 Thailand and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Donald Byrd to the rap 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
The Gories,
Stetsasonic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brothers Johnson,
Youth Brigade,
Kaleidoscope,
Tommy Roe,
Ultra Naté,
Sound Behaviour,
Crime,
K-Klass,
the Association,
Kerri Chandler,
Little Man,
Scientists,
Desert Stars,
Lucky Dragons,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Swans,
R.M.O.,
Boz Scaggs,
Swell Maps,
Bob Dylan,
Mandrill,
Deadbeat,
Public Enemy,
Deakin,
The Smiths,
Radio Birdman,
Rufus Thomas,
Terry Callier,
Ultravox,
The Mojo Men,
the Fania All-Stars,
Harpers Bizarre,
DJ Style,
Basic Channel,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Evens,
Hoover,
Roxette,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Leonard Cohen,
Soulsonic Force,
Spandau Ballet,
Lightning Bolt,
Crooked Eye,
Ken Boothe,
Stockholm Monsters,
Absolute Body Control,
Country Teasers,
Scion,
Los Fastidios,
Ituana,
The United States of America,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
L. Decosne,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.