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 Bahamas and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 K-Klass to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Chris Corsano,
Oblivians,
Unwound,
Bootsy Collins,
Peter and Kerry,
Terry Callier,
The Toasters,
The Fortunes,
Urselle,
Organ,
Soul II Soul,
Chris & Cosey,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Last Poets,
Visage,
Amon Düül,
Sight & Sound,
Scott Walker,
Flash Fearless,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Symarip,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mantronix,
T.S.O.L.,
Eddi Front,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Black Sheep,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
One Last Wish,
Brass Construction,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Index,
OOIOO,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boz Scaggs,
Spoonie Gee,
X-Ray Spex,
The Golliwogs,
Zapp,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Deakin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Zeros,
Pantytec,
The Index,
Gichy Dan,
The Gories,
Bobby Byrd,
Brothers Johnson,
Young Marble Giants,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
La Düsseldorf,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deepchord,
Hot Snakes,
Simply Red,
Sarah Menescal,
Wings,
Donald Byrd,
Moebius,
Mark Hollis,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.