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 Seychelles and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro 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 Cecil Taylor to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Urselle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Newcleus,
Crime,
The Beau Brummels,
The Monks,
MC5,
Radiopuhelimet,
Susan Cadogan,
The Misunderstood,
Saccharine Trust,
Dark Day,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gang Starr,
L. Decosne,
Funky Four + One,
Mars,
Bauhaus,
B.T. Express,
John Lydon,
the Bar-Kays,
D'Angelo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sight & Sound,
Hashim,
Joensuu 1685,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quando Quango,
Fatback Band,
Andrew Hill,
kango's stein massive,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gichy Dan,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Wake,
Boogie Down Productions,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Con Funk Shun,
Joe Finger,
Blake Baxter,
Ponytail,
Theoretical Girls,
Masters at Work,
The Red Krayola,
Roxette,
Vainqueur,
Joy Division,
Henry Cow,
Soft Cell,
Alphaville,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Index,
Ten City,
Wings,
DJ Style,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Y Pants,
Ralphi Rosario,
Circle Jerks,
Babytalk,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.