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 Samoa and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Danielle Patucci to the crunk 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pantytec,
Moebius,
KRS-One,
Sarah Menescal,
Scan 7,
Aural Exciters,
Kaleidoscope,
Grauzone,
Al Stewart,
Wolf Eyes,
Spoonie Gee,
The Last Poets,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gil Scott Heron,
New York Dolls,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Anthony Braxton,
Wasted Youth,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Human League,
Television Personalities,
David McCallum,
Yazoo,
L. Decosne,
The Selecter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Freddie Wadling,
Fugazi,
Dark Day,
The Raincoats,
Jerry Gold Smith,
D'Angelo,
These Immortal Souls,
Magma,
Los Fastidios,
the Soft Cell,
Ludus,
Slick Rick,
Blake Baxter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Easy Going,
Arab on Radar,
Surgeon,
Matthew Bourne,
Rosa Yemen,
Mantronix,
Radio Birdman,
F. McDonald,
The Smiths,
The Invisible,
Bill Wells,
Bang On A Can,
Ice-T,
Kool Moe Dee,
Barbara Tucker,
Agitation Free,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Newcleus,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.