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 Lesotho and from Accra.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Holger Czukay 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 Normal to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad 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?
June of 44,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Slits,
Darondo,
Oblivians,
The Zeros,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Inner City,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ken Boothe,
Porter Ricks,
The Mojo Men,
Alton Ellis,
Goldenarms,
Livin' Joy,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Byrd,
Dawn Penn,
Aswad,
Davy DMX,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jeff Mills,
The Divine Comedy,
The Beau Brummels,
Q65,
Royal Trux,
the Association,
Scan 7,
Harpers Bizarre,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Albert Ayler,
Lungfish,
Ice-T,
Swans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Echospace,
Television Personalities,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Pus,
Wire,
Faraquet,
L. Decosne,
Blake Baxter,
The Slackers,
Rekid,
The Searchers,
Technova,
Eddi Front,
The Blues Magoos,
Khruangbin,
Warsaw,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Althea and Donna,
Eve St. Jones,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pierre Henry,
The Misunderstood,
The Barracudas,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jacob Miller,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.