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 Grenada and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Michael McDonald 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 Cal Tjader to the techno 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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lebanon Hanover,
Model 500,
Vladislav Delay,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Raincoats,
Lalann,
The Buckinghams,
Hot Snakes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
David Axelrod,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Young Marble Giants,
Byron Stingily,
Circle Jerks,
Laurel Aitken,
Don Cherry,
Soulsonic Force,
Maleditus Sound,
Ken Boothe,
Graham Central Station,
The Monks,
Loose Ends,
Moss Icon,
Aswad,
JFA,
The Blackbyrds,
Andrew Hill,
The Leaves,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Toni Rubio,
Au Pairs,
Saccharine Trust,
Arthur Verocai,
Ultra Naté,
Josef K,
Bush Tetras,
Gabor Szabo,
PIL,
Country Joe & The Fish,
John Lydon,
The Velvet Underground,
Pierre Henry,
Excepter,
the Association,
Bauhaus,
10cc,
The Sound,
Sun City Girls,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Motions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sugar Minott,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gun Club,
Trumans Water,
Jacques Brel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.