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 Congo and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sonny Sharrock to the techno 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
The Last Poets,
Black Bananas,
Harry Pussy,
The Knickerbockers,
Funkadelic,
The Wake,
Peter and Kerry,
Janne Schatter,
Prince Buster,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Smoke,
London Community Gospel Choir,
T.S.O.L.,
Glambeats Corp.,
Amazonics,
Altered Images,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Carl Craig,
This Heat,
Charles Mingus,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thompson Twins,
The Raincoats,
Ponytail,
Flipper,
Severed Heads,
New Age Steppers,
Marine Girls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Neu!,
Graham Central Station,
Slick Rick,
Jeru the Damaja,
The New Christs,
Dave Gahan,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jerry Gold Smith,
K-Klass,
Jandek,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Kinks,
Section 25,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
UT,
The Stooges,
Cluster,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rekid,
Brass Construction,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Funky Four + One,
Inner City,
Sällskapet,
T. Rex,
The Blackbyrds,
Public Image Ltd.,
Porter Ricks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
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.