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 Mauritius and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Panda Bear to the jazz 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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pere Ubu,
The Happenings,
The Young Rascals,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The New Christs,
Eric Copeland,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blossom Toes,
Charles Mingus,
The Blackbyrds,
Pet Shop Boys,
Black Sheep,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barry Ungar,
Aural Exciters,
Liliput,
Cybotron,
Basic Channel,
Leonard Cohen,
Cymande,
Sex Pistols,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lebanon Hanover,
Harry Pussy,
Stetsasonic,
Scan 7,
Piero Umiliani,
Rekid,
Black Pus,
Alice Coltrane,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
June Days,
Swans,
Yusef Lateef,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fugazi,
Big Daddy Kane,
Letta Mbulu,
The Golliwogs,
Albert Ayler,
Scrapy,
Ornette Coleman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gong,
The Names,
Gang Gang Dance,
Quantec,
Aaron Thompson,
Angry Samoans,
Dual Sessions,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Motions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Max Romeo,
Barbara Tucker,
Rosa Yemen,
Gabor Szabo,
Rakim,
KRS-One,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.