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 Burkina and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Carl Craig to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wings,
Thee Headcoats,
Byron Stingily,
Jeff Mills,
The Barracudas,
Soft Cell,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Bananas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
David Bowie,
Marcia Griffiths,
Flamin' Groovies,
Stereo Dub,
Ronan,
Bronski Beat,
Hardrive,
Eric B and Rakim,
Cal Tjader,
Tubeway Army,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Victims,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Panda Bear,
Aaron Thompson,
The Motions,
Heaven 17,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Donald Byrd,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Glenn Branca,
Skriet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Terry Callier,
Sister Nancy,
Bang On A Can,
Lucky Dragons,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Sherman,
the Bar-Kays,
Los Fastidios,
Slick Rick,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barry Ungar,
Monolake,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amon Düül,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Sonics,
Hasil Adkins,
Quando Quango,
The Music Machine,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sixth Finger,
Guru Guru,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.