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 Suriname and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 David Bowie 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 K-Klass to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Thompson Twins. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Faust,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camouflage,
H. Thieme,
Schoolly D,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Shoche,
Lakeside,
The Zeros,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Quantec,
Excepter,
Siglo XX,
Banda Bassotti,
Alison Limerick,
Pylon,
The Dead C,
Sparks,
DNA,
Piero Umiliani,
X-102,
The Residents,
Anthony Braxton,
Talk Talk,
Trumans Water,
The Leaves,
Erykah Badu,
Radiohead,
Warsaw,
Shuggie Otis,
Funkadelic,
Monolake,
Pussy Galore,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Judy Mowatt,
Can,
The Black Dice,
Grey Daturas,
The Star Department,
The Index,
Los Fastidios,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ronnie Foster,
The Sonics,
Ice-T,
a-ha,
Animal Collective,
The Selecter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Absolute Body Control,
Don Cherry,
Eli Mardock,
The Fortunes,
Ituana,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Simply Red,
Ultra Naté,
Leonard Cohen,
Ronan,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.