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 Moldova and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Blues Magoos to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barry Ungar 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jeff Mills,
Black Bananas,
The Gap Band,
The Human League,
The Victims,
Urselle,
The Sound,
Zapp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Agitation Free,
The Velvet Underground,
Thee Headcoats,
The Music Machine,
Gang Starr,
Eddi Front,
These Immortal Souls,
Anthony Braxton,
The Five Americans,
Oblivians,
Arab on Radar,
Rufus Thomas,
Guru Guru,
Rod Modell,
Spoonie Gee,
Erasure,
The Busters,
Sixth Finger,
Blake Baxter,
Adolescents,
Moss Icon,
Sonic Youth,
Von Mondo,
A Certain Ratio,
Lyres,
D'Angelo,
Lightning Bolt,
The Beau Brummels,
AZ,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Standells,
Fatback Band,
The Misunderstood,
CMW,
Fluxion,
Angry Samoans,
Liliput,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Human League,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alice Coltrane,
LL Cool J,
The Cure,
Aloha Tigers,
Cybotron,
Pussy Galore,
The Fall,
Goldenarms,
Pole,
Mission of Burma,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.