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 Paraguay and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Skaos to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Letta Mbulu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Soul Sonic Force,
Malaria!,
Matthew Bourne,
T. Rex,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Birthday Party,
Adolescents,
Roxy Music,
Anthony Braxton,
Donny Hathaway,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cheater Slicks,
Eric Dolphy,
Hashim,
Nico,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pylon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Sonics,
Section 25,
The Wake,
ABBA,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Siglo XX,
Japan,
Popol Vuh,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eurythmics,
Ultimate Spinach,
F. McDonald,
Alice Coltrane,
The Golliwogs,
Mantronix,
Masters at Work,
The Neon Judgement,
Stockholm Monsters,
In Retrospect,
Urselle,
Suburban Knight,
The Count Five,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scrapy,
Letta Mbulu,
Khruangbin,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
JFA,
Carl Craig,
Unwound,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sunsets and Hearts,
LL Cool J,
Michelle Simonal,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.