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 Papua New Guinea and from New York.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Don Cherry to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Whodini. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
The Gap Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Make Up,
Sonny Sharrock,
Section 25,
Archie Shepp,
Sarah Menescal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Oblivians,
Young Marble Giants,
The Mojo Men,
Crooked Eye,
Roger Hodgson,
The Smiths,
Soulsonic Force,
Loose Ends,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Slave,
Gang of Four,
Roxy Music,
FM Einheit,
Wolf Eyes,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Standells,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lee Hazlewood,
Whodini,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Trojans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Slick Rick,
Intrusion,
The Wake,
48th St. Collective,
The Pretty Things,
Supertramp,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Main Source,
the Swans,
Josef K,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ohio Players,
Ludus,
Eric B and Rakim,
Zapp,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Knickerbockers,
Lightning Bolt,
The United States of America,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Au Pairs,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Monks,
The Buckinghams,
The Fall,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.