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 Senegal and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
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 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 Banda Bassotti to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Gabor Szabo,
The Electric Prunes,
Spandau Ballet,
Cluster,
The Fortunes,
Joensuu 1685,
Outsiders,
ABBA,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fugazi,
ABC,
Loose Ends,
The Walker Brothers,
Schoolly D,
John Coltrane,
The Mummies,
Oblivians,
Aural Exciters,
the Normal,
Pole,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mark Hollis,
Andrew Hill,
Public Enemy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Minnie Riperton,
Saccharine Trust,
Pulsallama,
Bad Manners,
Organ,
Bizarre Inc.,
kango's stein massive,
Cecil Taylor,
Visage,
Minutemen,
Gong,
Rekid,
Gerry Rafferty,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Easy Going,
Neu!,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cameo,
Ten City,
Barclay James Harvest,
Motorama,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ultravox,
Whodini,
Donny Hathaway,
Parry Music,
Alison Limerick,
Silicon Teens,
Icehouse,
Soft Machine,
Yazoo,
Archie Shepp,
The Saints,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Brothers Johnson,
Mad Mike,
Suburban Knight,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.