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 Jordan and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Andrew Hill to the jazz 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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Intrusion,
Robert Görl,
Fugazi,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Moebius,
Section 25,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Seeds,
Desert Stars,
Mad Mike,
Subhumans,
The Evens,
The Toasters,
Todd Rundgren,
Juan Atkins,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tropical Tobacco,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Masters at Work,
Soul II Soul,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sun Ra,
The Techniques,
Infiniti,
Grey Daturas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Donny Hathaway,
The Cowsills,
Neil Young,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Boredoms,
U.S. Maple,
Andrew Hill,
World's Most,
Ituana,
Yazoo,
Toni Rubio,
David Bowie,
Kas Product,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dark Day,
Panda Bear,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Smiths,
Max Romeo,
Erykah Badu,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Brick,
DNA,
Freddie Wadling,
Amon Düül,
Derrick May,
Depeche Mode,
Wire,
Kaleidoscope,
B.T. Express,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.