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 Mozambique and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Smog to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Animal Collective,
Blake Baxter,
Sex Pistols,
The Stooges,
Metal Thangz,
Von Mondo,
Fluxion,
Kerri Chandler,
Schoolly D,
The Vogues,
Suicide,
The Music Machine,
Hot Snakes,
Surgeon,
Duran Duran,
The Selecter,
The Toasters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Modern Lovers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hasil Adkins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Unrelated Segments,
Bush Tetras,
Dave Gahan,
Royal Trux,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Angels of Light,
the Soft Cell,
Wasted Youth,
Sunsets and Hearts,
World's Most,
Tears for Fears,
the Association,
The Index,
Sister Nancy,
Dead Boys,
The Buckinghams,
Colin Newman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Organ,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Amazonics,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Guru Guru,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ronnie Foster,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Angry Samoans,
The Grass Roots,
The Monochrome Set,
Motorama,
The Monks,
Pierre Henry,
Icehouse,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.