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 Azerbaijan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Eddi Front to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unrelated Segments record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sixth Finger,
DJ Sneak,
The Cowsills,
Mars,
Eric Dolphy,
Warren Ellis,
Television Personalities,
Supertramp,
The Music Machine,
Technova,
the Bar-Kays,
Terry Callier,
Sonic Youth,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Patti Smith,
Stockholm Monsters,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cramps,
Flamin' Groovies,
Wire,
The Techniques,
Newcleus,
Dark Day,
Minutemen,
Glambeats Corp.,
Easy Going,
Deakin,
Tom Boy,
Duran Duran,
U.S. Maple,
Vainqueur,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Names,
Terrestrial Tones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bobby Sherman,
Gang of Four,
Charles Mingus,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alton Ellis,
Iggy Pop,
The Slits,
Schoolly D,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Los Fastidios,
The Raincoats,
the Sonics,
These Immortal Souls,
Outsiders,
The Dead C,
Sandy B,
Brothers Johnson,
Carl Craig,
Zapp,
The Searchers,
David Axelrod,
The Dirtbombs,
Khruangbin,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.