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 Estonia and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the techno 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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Vainqueur,
Byron Stingily,
Mark Hollis,
Swell Maps,
The Raincoats,
Desert Stars,
Barrington Levy,
Bill Near,
Hasil Adkins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
B.T. Express,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Adolescents,
Quando Quango,
Fat Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nils Olav,
Bang On A Can,
David McCallum,
Chris Corsano,
Matthew Bourne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Agent Orange,
Infiniti,
Eurythmics,
The Fall,
Fear,
The Real Kids,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
New Order,
The Star Department,
Mandrill,
Eden Ahbez,
R.M.O.,
Johnny Clarke,
X-101,
Deadbeat,
The Mummies,
L. Decosne,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Wells,
the Germs,
Porter Ricks,
Gichy Dan,
Carl Craig,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Maleditus Sound,
The Last Poets,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ralphi Rosario,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Joyce Sims,
The Selecter,
This Heat,
Joensuu 1685,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.