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 Finland and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 KRS-One to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Godley & Creme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
The Last Poets,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crooked Eye,
Sixth Finger,
Make Up,
Fad Gadget,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lyres,
Barrington Levy,
The American Breed,
Gastr Del Sol,
Joy Division,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
A Certain Ratio,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Tim Buckley,
Bill Near,
Todd Terry,
Trumans Water,
Lower 48,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Arab on Radar,
The Zeros,
Radio Birdman,
Easy Going,
Oblivians,
Zapp,
the Association,
Jacob Miller,
Groovy Waters,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Charles Mingus,
Main Source,
Letta Mbulu,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Sherman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Foxx,
Juan Atkins,
Suicide,
The Cure,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nik Kershaw,
Rakim,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Q and Not U,
Ossler,
Vainqueur,
The Pretty Things,
Intrusion,
Bluetip,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barry Ungar,
The Seeds,
Fela Kuti,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sugar Minott,
Tommy Roe,
The Durutti Column,
The Names,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.