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 Solomon Islands and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Glenn Branca to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
The Tremeloes,
Soft Machine,
Prince Buster,
Sparks,
Ten City,
Roger Hodgson,
Roy Ayers,
Janne Schatter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Das Ding,
Roxy Music,
The New Christs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nico,
Eddi Front,
The Golliwogs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Reagan Youth,
Albert Ayler,
John Lydon,
John Cale,
June Days,
Monolake,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Carl Craig,
Amon Düül II,
Terry Callier,
Section 25,
Fatback Band,
Connie Case,
L. Decosne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Zapp,
Flipper,
The Mummies,
Simply Red,
Maleditus Sound,
The Barracudas,
Heaven 17,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rhythm & Sound,
Q and Not U,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Television,
Aural Exciters,
Barbara Tucker,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kenny Larkin,
X-Ray Spex,
Donald Byrd,
The Red Krayola,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Divine Comedy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.