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 Australia and from Stockholm.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Neu! to the dance 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
EPMD,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sonics,
Radiohead,
Dennis Brown,
Con Funk Shun,
F. McDonald,
The J.B.'s,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Scott Walker,
Thee Headcoats,
Peter and Kerry,
The Dead C,
Smog,
The Monochrome Set,
the Soft Cell,
Brick,
Popol Vuh,
Sugar Minott,
The Modern Lovers,
Electric Prunes,
Charles Mingus,
Chris & Cosey,
Pet Shop Boys,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Scan 7,
The Searchers,
The Selecter,
T. Rex,
Maleditus Sound,
Harpers Bizarre,
Minny Pops,
Fat Boys,
Godley & Creme,
The Slackers,
Juan Atkins,
John Coltrane,
The American Breed,
The Litter,
Pierre Henry,
Khruangbin,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cal Tjader,
The Last Poets,
The Buckinghams,
Marmalade,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aloha Tigers,
Los Fastidios,
Talk Talk,
Lou Christie,
Massinfluence,
X-102,
Panda Bear,
The Fall,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash,
Steve Hackett,
Bill Wells,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.