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 Romania and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 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 Kenny Larkin 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric B and Rakim,
Franke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Janne Schatter,
Spandau Ballet,
Blossom Toes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Seeds,
Barclay James Harvest,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Barrington Levy,
A Certain Ratio,
Bronski Beat,
Second Layer,
The Beau Brummels,
Marmalade,
The Offenders,
Roy Ayers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sandy B,
The Angels of Light,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jawbox,
Johnny Osbourne,
Inner City,
LL Cool J,
Carl Craig,
Marvin Gaye,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mr. Review,
Country Teasers,
Ronnie Foster,
Albert Ayler,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Associates,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cecil Taylor,
Idris Muhammad,
Rhythm & Sound,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joe Finger,
The Electric Prunes,
Barry Ungar,
Ituana,
Vainqueur,
The New Christs,
The Gories,
Neil Young,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Litter,
Reuben Wilson,
The Evens,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fela Kuti,
Mantronix,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yusef Lateef,
Nirvana,
The Knickerbockers,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.