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 Grenada and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Jeff Lynne,
Public Image Ltd.,
Janne Schatter,
Magma,
Lower 48,
Sixth Finger,
The Saints,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Suburban Knight,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Skatalites,
Avey Tare,
Slick Rick,
The Real Kids,
The Leaves,
Brand Nubian,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Durutti Column,
Monolake,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Donny Hathaway,
Fat Boys,
Ludus,
The Beau Brummels,
The Monochrome Set,
Massinfluence,
Loose Ends,
Rod Modell,
KRS-One,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Victims,
Yazoo,
Quadrant,
Peter & Gordon,
Khruangbin,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Knickerbockers,
Quando Quango,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Searchers,
Technova,
H. Thieme,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Cluster,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eric Dolphy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Absolute Body Control,
The Buckinghams,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Max Romeo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bluetip,
Marmalade,
John Cale,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.