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 South Sudan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Echospace,
Inner City,
Gabor Szabo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
In Retrospect,
Crime,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pantytec,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fatback Band,
Don Cherry,
Maurizio,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott Heron,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Heaven 17,
Yusef Lateef,
Peter & Gordon,
Rotary Connection,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Invisible,
Black Moon,
Clear Light,
Judy Mowatt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Siglo XX,
Harmonia,
Godley & Creme,
Joe Finger,
Malaria!,
Patti Smith,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Sherman,
X-Ray Spex,
Laurel Aitken,
Steve Hackett,
The Saints,
Radiohead,
Flipper,
Pantaleimon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sister Nancy,
Morten Harket,
Magma,
Minutemen,
Lee Hazlewood,
Porter Ricks,
Dennis Brown,
Jesper Dahlback,
Barrington Levy,
Bang On A Can,
Easy Going,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Shoche,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Tremeloes,
Duran Duran,
Eric Dolphy,
Shuggie Otis,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.